Everything I'm Not
by Mazoodle
Summary: When a Ministry Marriage Law is put into swing, Draco Malfoy takes his mother's advice and bids on someone who will bring some amount of honor back to the tarnished Malfoy name, but bidding on Hermione Granger gives him a lot more than he bargained for. Post-Hogwarts, EWE? The book cover was made by Protegotardis. I'M HAVING A SURGERY SO THIS IS ON BREAK UNTIL I'M HEALED (NOT LONG)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: As promised, a new story. This is a marriage law one, so just a forewarning. I've changed the rating to T because all this does is swear so far.  
This story is totally and completely for Rebecca and Aubrey because they're just so awesome. **

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Marriage Law**

"_Effective immediately following this posting, a Ministry mandated Marriage Law will take effect. The guidelines of this Marriage Law are as follows: Tomorrow afternoon every eligible Pureblood or lesser witch and wizard will report to the Marriage Department of the Ministry for Magic for the Auctioning, wherein every eligible Pureblooded male will have the opportunity to bid for the Half-blood or Muggle witch of their choosing. All proceeds of this auction will go directly to the relief fund to aid the rebuilding of our Magical World. Eligibility applies to all those unmarried witches and wizards ages 18 to 35. A wedding must occur within three months of the auction. If within two years an heir is not produced, the marriage will be considered dissolved. Failure to comply will result in consequences. Thank you all for your support in rebuilding our World._"

* * *

Hermione cried for hours in the arms of Harry and Ron. They said nothing, only held her as she cried herself to the point of retching and exhaustion. Harry muttered soothing words in her ear and Ron stroked her hair, each of them trying to calm her, make it better, whatever they could do.

Nothing could make this better for her. She faced the stark reality of marrying someone who would more than likely be a complete and total stranger, someone who didn't truly care for her. It was probable that they would only want her for the fame she carried, for her connections to Ron and Harry. She cried for the bleak reality that in less than a day she would belong to someone else. Someone else would literally _buy_ her hand in marriage.

When her owl had dropped the condemning document onto her kitchen table, she had read it with tight lips and shaky hands, barely controlled anger settling deep into her bones. How dare they force people into marriage? Force two people who have nothing in common to have a child together to promote mixed blood? And even worse, to auction people off like they were furniture or livestock? It made her sick and enraged. It took her several moments to realize this also applied to her, and that was when the panic and upset sunk in. She didn't want to get married at her current age of nineteen, let alone married to someone she likely didn't know, whom she knew wouldn't love her. It made her sick.

Harry and Ron had Floo'd in less than ten minutes after everyone in the Wizarding World had received the decree, and knew without having to talk what this meant. Ron had been the first to wrap his strong arms around her, and Harry had followed seconds later. Her obvious choices were out of the question—Harry had married Ginny two weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts and Ron had married Cho Chang less than a month ago. She could feel their frustration as the clung to her. The Golden Trio was helpless to aid each other in this instance. It had always been them against the world, but now it was the world against Hermione, and Ron and Harry could do no good.

Eventually they had moved to the couch and Hermione had sat in between them, leaning heavily on Harry as Ron ran his hand up and down her arm, trying desperately to soothe their best friend. When Hermione had finally cried herself to sleep, eyes puffy and skin blotchy, Ron had gathered her up and put her in bed, pulling the covers over her and shutting the door. He and Harry had sat at her kitchen table in silence, drinking tea they had taken the liberty of making themselves. The clock was their enemy. In a mere twelve hours, someone would bid on Hermione for their wife, and Ron and Harry were powerless to do anything about it. Even Harry's influence in the Ministry couldn't stop this; the Ministry had planned this in complete secret. No one had known this was coming.

"Blimey, mate," Ron said mournfully. Harry nodded and said nothing, green eyes staring unblinkingly past Ron's head at the wall behind him, where there was a framed picture of the three of them. It felt like the world was starting to crumble.

"I feel like shit," Ron said suddenly. Harry looked at him questioningly.

"I could have married her, Harry. We kissed at the battle." Ron's tone was bleak and distant. Harry shook his head.

"It wasn't right, Ron. You weren't right together." Ron slammed his hands down angrily.

"And this is? At least that way she'd be happy! She'll never be happy like this and you and I both know that!" Harry shushed him, looking towards Hermione's door. Ron's blush crept higher up his face, nearing his hairline.

"Whatever happens," Harry continued, "We will be there for her. We have always been there for her. This will be no different." Ron said nothing. He stood up and walked into Hermione's kitchen, digging through the cupboards until he found the Firewhiskey she kept for special occasions. Harry frowned but said nothing as Ron poured them both a shot.

"Whatever happens?" He raised his shot glass to Harry, who stepped forward and took his.

"Whatever happens."

* * *

Draco Malfoy saw red: deep, dark, blood red. He couldn't tell if it was from how bloody angry he was or if it was from the multiple lacerations on his hand that had occurred when he had smashed his glass on the mahogany table. How _dare_ the Ministry do this? Force him to marry a Mudblood or a Half-blood. What right did they have to dirty his family's name?

His mother watched with dark amusement as her only son paraded around the room, spewing out nonsense about the destruction of the family name and the mixing of bloodlines. It disturbed her to see that, even after all their family had suffered, he still believed in the lies Lucius had drilled into their life.

Lucius Malfoy was in Azkaban, and would remain there indefinitely. Contrary to what most people had believed, Narcissa Malfoy was happy. Her husband and she had no relationship besides the one they had signed on paper. She had fallen out of love with Lucius after he had rejoined the Dark Lord's forces, and after that she had become more a less a prisoner in her own home. She was subjected weekly to Lucius' terrifying alcohol problems that led to countless nights bleeding on her bathroom floor.

It was Harry Potter's doing that she was not in Azkaban with her husband. He had arrived at her trial and confirmed her help in saving his life; claiming that had it not been for Narcissa, he would undoubtedly be dead and things would be undeniably different. He had also spoken for her son and his forced involvement with Voldemort's group. It was true; Draco had only joined for fear of his and his mother's lives.

Draco had taken Lucius' imprisonment a tad less well than Narcissa had. It had been two years since the end of the war, and Draco was still an angry and prejudiced child. Although she would never admit it, Narcissa was very grateful for this seemingly unfortunate turn of events. This forced marriage to someone Draco deemed lowly would be what he needed to turn the tides on his prejudices and help him become the man that Narcissa had no doubt he could be.

"Filthy Mudbloods!" Draco slammed his fists into the marble fireplace and winced as the pain shot up his arm. Narcissa sighed and smoothed her hair, adjusting herself in her chaise lounge, waiting for her son's tirade to be over. She grimaced as another vase met its untimely demise against the wood paneling on the walls of their drawing room.

"That's enough, Draco," she said sternly. He froze at the mothering tone in her voice and sank to the chair across from her, pulling out his wand to heal the cuts on his hand and then cleaning off the stained skin.

"I am a Malfoy," he sulked, almost childishly, "and they have no right making me do such a despicable thing." Narcissa resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his antics.

"You will do this, Draco, and you will choose wisely." He looked up at her sharply and laughed.

"How do you supposed I choose wisely amongst filth?" he spat, refusing to meet his mother's scrutinizing gaze.

"You will choose someone who will bring back some amount of honor to this family. Do you understand?" Draco stood up and left without answer. He walked into his quarters and slammed the door shut, fully intending to spend his last day as a single man in the way any single man wanted to spend his last days.

He Floo'd himself to Pansy Parkinson's flat and grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her roughly to bed and throwing her down.

"Draco, what the fuck?" she had demanded as she rubbed her wrist.

"We have one night until we're condemned to suffer," he growled, pulling his shirt off, "and I intend to go out with a bang." Pansy made no attempts to stop him after that. She knew he was right. Pansy was less concerned with the marriage doctrine. Her blood prejudices had nearly disappeared overnight as she had sat in the Slytherin dungeons and listened to Hogwarts, a place she had always secretly loved, be torn apart over her. Even so, she let Draco have his way, knowing he was angry and upset.

When they had finished, Draco rolled off her and lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, willing the frustration and anger slip away.

"Thank you, Pans." She frowned. Draco never thanked her for their quick meetings.

"What for?" she felt him shrug.

"Letting me shag you. Being a friend." Pansy sighed and pulled herself up on an elbow to look at his pale face. His brow was creased and his hair was sweaty, but he was still gorgeous.

"You know I enjoy it and Draco," she paused, knowing he didn't like sappiness, "you will always be my friend, regardless of what happens tomorrow afternoon. You know that." Draco kissed her chastely on the cheek. It was the kind of kiss friends gave to each other. They both understood somberly that it was the end of one phase of their relationship, but Draco realized, as he drifted off to sleep, that he didn't really regret this part ending. Pansy had been, and always would be, one of his closest friends.

Pansy lay awake for several hours after that, staring up above her. It would be an outright lie to say she wasn't nervous about tomorrow. She didn't like not knowing what would happen and who would choose her. If she had her way she would have married Draco or Blaise. Both of them were respectable, wealthy bachelors that she was close to and cared about. Now she was being shoved into a fate she had no choice in. Pansy Parkinson wasn't one to argue authority, so as she too fell asleep, she promised herself that she would make the best of whatever came her way, no matter what that fate was.

* * *

"You look beautiful, Hermione," Ginny Potter sighed as she pulled out of her friend's embrace. They were standing in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. Ginny had refused to let Hermione go to the Ministry alone that afternoon, and naturally Harry, Ron and Cho had all agreed with her. It had been decided they would all go together into the Marriage Department to support her. Ron and Harry had barely said two words since she had arrived at nine in the morning for breakfast. She could tell Ron was absolutely fuming and Harry wasn't much better. Cho had tried and failed in vain to get Ron to eat something but he had waved her off and she had stopped, instead turning attention to Hermione and Ginny. Ginny was attacking Hermione's hair with a Muggle straightener, attempting to tame it. Hermione had sat blankly as her hair was yanked around. She had found it impossible to cry anymore, and it had taken three different spells to bring the swelling around her eyes down enough to the point where she looked presentable.

They had finished prepping Hermione at 11:00 and had put her in a green sundress that Ginny had lent her. Hermione looked in the mirror and agreed silently that she did look quite nice. The straightener had managed to flatten out her outrageous curls but not diminish them entirely, and the bit of eye makeup Ginny had added made her eyes look, dare she say, sexy. It definitely made her eyes stand out, at any rate.

"Thank you," Hermione said, speaking the first words she had said all morning. Ginny smiled sadly at her best friend and hugged her again. Hermione looked to Ron and Harry, who stood off to the side. Harry was the first to step forward and pull her into a hug.

"We're still the Golden Trio, 'Mione. Always will be." She fought back the tears that pooled along her lower lashes.

"I know. I love you, Harry. And you, Ron," she added, looking up over Harry's shoulder. One tear slid down his freckled cheek and then he had his arms around her and Harry, and all three of them cried together for a few moments before Ginny cleared her throat and announced the time.

Ginny linked her hand with Harry, who threaded his other hand through Hermione's. She clasped tightly with her free hand to Ron's fingers, and Cho held her hand to Ron's open one. The five of them took a deep breath and apparated into the main hall of the Ministry.

* * *

Draco awoke the next morning to an empty bed and heard Pansy's shower running. He called goodbye to her before Flooing back to his house, where he stepped face to face with his less than pleased mother.

"Where were you?" she demanded. Draco pushed past her and up to his bedroom.

"This thing with Pansy has to stop, Draco. I won't allow it anymore." He flipped around and sneered at her.

"It ended last night, mother," he informed her angrily. Narcissa's expression didn't break, but her heart wrenched a bit for her son.

"I'm going with you today," she said softly. Draco's anger broke and he shook his head, walking down the stairs to stand in front of his mother, the only person he had left in the world.

"No, I want to go alone." Narcissa opened her mouth to protest but Draco raised a hand.

"This will be hard enough. Please let me do this." His mother nodded, knowing a lost cause when she saw one.

"I'll make you proud," he muttered quietly, kissing her on the cheek and then bounding up the stairs.

"You already have, Draco," she called softly after him, knowing he couldn't hear. She walked slowly back into her sitting room and summoned her house elf, requesting tea. She settled in with a book and waited to see what would happen. All she wanted for her son was happiness and a chance at a normal life… She wanted nothing more than grandchildren running in her backyard and a daughter-in-law drinking tea with her and to see her son happy like he had been when he was younger. She hadn't seen a genuine smile on those pale lips in years.

Draco looked at his wardrobe and frowned, unsure what to wear. He supposed something nice would probably be a good idea. He was, after all, going to choose his wife. The thought made him shiver slightly. He finally decided on black slacks and a Slytherin green button down. The whole outfit was very Draco. He showered quickly and brushed his teeth, then applying cologne and dressing. He stared at himself in the mirror and sighed, trying to rationalize.

"It's only two years," he reminded himself, knotting his silver tie around his neck. And that was true; it was only two years. He could be out of the entire bloody mess in two years if things went terribly wrong. He smirked at that.

Draco hadn't been in the Ministry since the end of his last trial, and he had subconsciously sworn never to have to go back in, yet here he was, stepping out of a fireplace into the Ministry for Magic. He followed the milling crowd of people into the newest section of the Ministry, trying his best to keep himself out of sight. Even though it had been two years, the youngest Malfoy still drew the attention of people when he went out in public, specifically the press.

Oh Merlin, the press. He hadn't even thought about the field day the press would have with whomever he chose to be the future Mrs. Malfoy. He shook the thought from his mind and looked around for any familiar face. The first person he saw sent relief shooting through him.

"Blaise!" Zabini looked towards the voice and grinned cockily at Draco, shoving his way through the crowd to shake his hand before pulling him into a quick hug.

"Welcome to the Wife Auction," he said jokingly. Draco offered a small smirk to his response and offered a similar greeting. He and Blaise chatted quietly as they filtered into the room and followed the signs directing the pureblooded males to the front row for the bidding. They had about ten minutes before auctions started.

"Do you have anyone in mind?" Blaise asked as the five-minute bell rang. Draco shook his head and stared at the stage.

"Do you?" Blaise offered a similar response and they fell silent, both sets of eyes directing to the clock. They watched as the minutes counted down to seconds, and as the clock rang in the noon hour, the Minister for Magic stepped onto the platform.

"Hello." Shacklebolt's deep bass voice rang through the amplification spell. The crowd hushed quickly.

"Thank you all for coming today and supporting the growth and unity of our world. The bidding will start presently, and will begin in alphabetical order. If you see someone you like, you may raise your wand and light the tip to signal a bid. If you wish to add money to the bid, simply call out your offer. Thank you all, and let the bidding commence." Kingsley stepped off to the side and called the first name.

"Renee Addams." A skinny, mousy looking woman stepped up onto the stage. She was in her thirties and looked downright terrified. Draco and Blaise looked away, unimpressed.

"Renee is 32 years old, half-blood. She works for a bakery in Muggle London. She enjoys playing basketball and reading. The bidding starts at fifty galleons." Draco glanced back and saw twenty or thirty wands rise up in the air. He estimated there were about a hundred people there to bid and maybe fifty more sitting in the stands watching and supporting their friends and family.

Shacklebolt slowly raised the bids until a man won Renee for six hundred galleons. He was a man that looked relatively close to her age and didn't seem like an insane rapist. Maybe this whole bidding thing wouldn't be so bad. Renee definitely didn't look horridly disappointed.

"Allison Batcher." Allison walked trembling onstage. She was slightly overweight and poorly dressed, with long and greasy blond hair.

"Allison is 18 years old, Muggle born. She enjoys to read and write. Bidding starts at fifty galleons." Draco glanced back at the crowd and felt sick. All of the men that raised their wands were at the older end of the range. This was wrong.

Allison broke down in tears on the stage, but stayed standing, jutting her chin out and trying to look strong.

To Draco's secret relief, the bidding was won for three hundred galleons to a man who looked less than five years older than her.

The bidding rolled on through the rest of the B's, and then through the C's. Neither Draco nor Blaise had raised their wands once.

"Angelica Franklin," Kingsley spoke loudly. It had been nearly two hours and the general bidding price for the girls was anywhere from two hundred to eight hundred galleons. Blaise raised an eyebrow at the girl that walked onto the platform. She was petite, with delicate features and dark black hair against tan skin. Draco looked at his friend and paled. This was it.

"Blaise…" Draco's voice trailed off as Shacklebolt spoke.

"Angelica is 19 years old, Muggle born. She enjoys theatre and singing. Bidding starts at fifty galleons." Blaise's wand shot up in the air, but he was not alone. Angelica looked right at Blaise and smiled at him, and that's when Draco recognized her. She had gone to Hogwarts with them… A Hufflepuff if he recalled. There was a pleading note to her smile, which Blaise picked up on.

"One thousand galleons." Blaise's voice reached the Minister for Magic. The hall shushed. This was the first time someone had offered a significant amount of money. All of the wands dropped, leaving Blaise's standing alone.

"Congratulations, Blaise Zabini." Angelica's face flooded with relief and she walked off the stage, to the room where Blaise would go to meet her.

"You knew her, didn't you?" Blaise nodded without looking at Draco.

"You set this up with her?" Blaise nodded again.

"Explain."

"I met her studying at Hogwarts once. She was nice and quiet. We were friends. She owled me last night and asked if I would be okay with it." Draco said nothing, only looked back to the stage. He was now nervous. He had seen at least thirty witches and not one had caught his eye. He had to leave today with what was effectively a fiancée and someone whom his mother would approve of. It also had to be someone who he would reasonably get along with.

He mused through the rest of the F's, and Blaise stayed quiet, knowing interrupting Draco's train of thought was an unwise thing to attempt.

"Next up… Hermione Granger." Draco's head shot up and he paled. Granger? Wasn't she married to Weasley?

"Granger?" Blaise asked, feeling Draco's shock. Draco nodded numbly and watched as Hermione walked proudly on the stage, all of her Gryffindor bravery on display. She held herself straight, smoothed her dress and stood in the center of the platform.

"Hermione is 19 years old, Muggle born. I doubt she needs much introduction," Kingsley chuckled and looked at Hermione. She returned his humored gaze coolly before looking back out to the audience, at the stands. Draco followed her gaze and saw that she was looking Harry, Ginny, Ron Weasley and Cho Chang.

"Ron and Chang?" Blaise mused. Draco said nothing, gripping his wand tightly. Blaise noticed.

"Anyways," Kingsley cleared his throat uncomfortably, trying to calm the crowd. They had begun chattering at Granger's presence. "Hermione likes to read, and graduated head of her class at Hogwarts. Bidding starts at fifty galleons." Nearly all of the wands in the room shot up, and Hermione jumped slightly at the sheer amount of people. Draco swallowed thickly and looked to Blaise, who was staring at his white-knuckle grip.

"Draco, what are you thinking?" he asked his friend, who had turned his attention back to Granger.

"Two hundred galleons!" someone near the back called out. Draco listened as the bids rose higher and higher until they touched ten thousand galleons in less than a minute. Hermione had grown paler and paler as each bid was called out.

"I know what you're thinking," Blaise answered himself as Draco's arm twitched.

"And what do you think?" Draco asked, not really caring. All he could hear was his mother's voice echoing around in his head. Choose someone to bring honor back to the family. Choose someone who will bring the Malfoy's back into good standing.

"I think it's not a terrible idea." Draco looked at him in shock, and they both listened as someone called out twenty thousand galleons.

"She'd keep you on your toes. Your mother would love her," Blaise continued, trying to push Draco into placing a bid. H knew this was it for Draco. Blaise knew that Granger was the best Draco would find here. He needed someone who wouldn't let his ego run free; someone to challenge his intellect; someone to fight the power Draco thought he held. Blaise was no idiot. He knew that Draco thought he was king of the world, and Hermione Granger was the best thing to bring Draco out of his old-fashioned, Lucius-esque ways.

"Do it, Draco." Draco faltered for a moment before shooting his wand up.

"Two-hundred-thousand galleons!" For being so loud, his voice was oddly calm and Draco hardly realized it was his own. A collective gasp rushed across the room, followed by whispers of his name. Hermione looked right at him and, if it was possible, got even whiter. Draco could hardly believe what he had just done.

Every wand in the room dropped, and Kingsley swallowed hard.

"Hermione Granger goes to Draco Malfoy." If someone had dropped a pin in the room, everyone would have heard it. The silence didn't last long, for soon it was filled with the flashing of cameras and shouts from reporters. Kingsley rushed forward and shoved Hermione offstage to avoid the onslaught of paper representatives that were trying to flood the stage.

"MALFOY!" Draco looked towards who called his name and came face to face with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, both of them looking murderously angry. Ginny Potter was not far behind, looking angrier than her husband and brother.

"What the fuck are you playing at?" Ron demanded, slamming him forward against the wall. Draco shoved him off and tried to side step, but he didn't move fast enough.

Ron Weasley had quite the punch. It was almost as hard as when Hermione had punched him third year.

"Ron no!" Ginny dragged her brother backwards.

"Uh, everyone take a break! Get out!" Kingsley announced, motioning to the guards on the side of the room to usher people out.

"Get the fuck off me, Ginny!" Ron shoved his sister backwards, sending her flying into Harry before he ran at Malfoy again.

This time, Malfoy was faster. He elbowed Weasley in the stomach and then turned to flee towards Blaise, who had been shoved into the escaping crowd, but Potter blocked his way. Malfoy threw a well-aimed punch at Harry, splitting his lip. It was then Draco noticed that his nose felt like it was on fire and there was blood pouring down his shirt.

"ENOUGH." Kingsley's voice boomed across the empty room. Harry and Ron turned their attention to him and both started babbling.

"You can't let this happen, Shacklebolt! Not him!" they both exclaimed at the same time. Kingsley shook his head and raised his hands.

"He bid for her. He gets her. No exceptions. Now you two get home. You have no reason to be here anymore!" Harry and Ron continued their argument with Kingsley and Draco looked up as Blaise walked over to him.

"You alright?" he asked. Draco scowled.

"My nose is broken, you git," he responded sourly.

"Malfoy," Ginny's voice was relatively calm now, and she held her hands in front of her as she approached. Malfoy sneered but didn't move.

"What?" he snapped. Ginny sighed and put her hands on her hips.

"I don't know why you did this, but seeing as now I will be stuck with you for two years, can we at least not start like this? BOYS!" Harry and Ron stopped their arguing and turned to Ginny's commanding presence.

"Would you two shut it and listen?" Harry snapped his mouth shut and Ron looked down.

"We're stuck with this git now and I refuse to have it be like this." Ginny said angrily.

"Ginny, this is Draco _fucking_ Malfoy!" Ron shouted, gesturing helplessly to him. Ginny nodded impatiently.

"I know. And he's now Hermione's future husband. Meaning we'll be seeing quite a bit of him. I don't know why _Draco_," she enunciated his name, "chose Hermione but he did." Harry was the first to agree with Ginny.

"You're right. This can't happen." Ron gaped at him and Cho stepped forward to lay a comforting hand on Ron's arm. He relaxed under her touch.

"I don't like you, Malfoy," Harry said, putting his arm around Ginny, "But I guess we're stuck with you now." Draco said nothing, but nodded slowly, trying to keep the blood that was pouring from his nose from splashing on anyone.

"If you hurt her, I will deal with you." Harry's voice was very much a threat, to which Ron nodded angrily.

"Look at me, Draco." Draco automatically looked to Ginny, who had her wand out.

"_Episkey_." Draco yelled as the bones in his nose reset themselves and the blood stopped flowing.

"_Scourgify_," she added as an afterthought. The blood that was all over his shirt leeched away from it, leaving him crisp and clean looking.

He looked thoughtfully at Potter's wife.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," she smirked. "Now let's go fetch Hermione. Harry, I'll see you at home… And take Ron with you." She motioned for Draco to follow her, leaving a stunned Harry and Ron in her wake.

"Your sister would be an excellent ambassador," Kingsley mused thoughtfully. "She's got quite the attitude." Ron looked at him sourly and then to Harry.

"Well?" he asked. Harry shrugged.

"We go back to my place now and wait, I presume." And that they did.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Still searching for a beta so if you have suggestions let me know. My heart goes out to anyone who reads this in Boston.  
On a lighter note, I'm completely overwhelmed with how well this story has been received and all of your reviews honestly make my day. Thank you to all of you! *hugs***

* * *

**Chapter 2: Pining for Granger**

Draco felt numb as he followed Ginny into the waiting room. He could hardly process that he had just bought Hermione Granger for a small chunk of the Malfoy fortune. He hoped to Merlin his mother would approve, even though in the back of his mind he already knew she did.

During his little fight and mediation session with Potter and Weasley, most of the people had collected their new partners and left. As Harry and Ron cleared out with their wives, Shacklebolt had resumed the bidding.

Draco and Ginny paused outside the room, Ginny blocking his way.

"Why her, Draco?" she asked, honest curiosity seeping into her voice. Draco wasn't sure what to say. He no longer felt the need to be a snarky, sarcastic bastard. He just wanted to go home and talk to his mother.

"I… I think because…" he didn't know what to say. "She'll help us. And my mother likes her." He tried in vain to push the shaky edge from his voice.

"Your mother likes her? Your aunt sure as hell didn't." Draco bristled.

"My aunt was batshit crazy, Weasley. My mother had no choice with her involvement and neither did I!" Draco Malfoy was quite sick with everyone in the Wizarding World associating he and his mother with his insane aunt. Wasn't it at all obvious that there was no connection other than blood between them?

Ginny raised an eyebrow at his outburst.

"Potter. I'm Potter, not Weasley," she responded evenly before opening the door and walking into the room.

"Ginny," Hermione squeaked, throwing her arms around the red head. She burst into tears and Ginny shushed her, squeezing her tightly. Hermione had yet to notice the uncomfortable blond standing off to the side, to absorbed in the comfort her friend was providing.

Draco watched the display, looking only at Hermione. The makeup she had on was starting to run down her cheeks, her hair was flaring up and she was shaking profusely. It was hard to hate her now that he was seeing her like this. She looked so broken, nothing like the girl he had known two years ago. He almost felt a pang of sympathy for her.

Then she looked up at him, and all sympathy he felt vanished when he saw the anger in her eyes.

"You," she spat, pushing Ginny away, "I can't bloody believe you. What the hell are you doing?" she shoved her hands into Malfoy's chest, sending him stumbling backwards.

"I'm not doing anything, Granger," he answered calmly, although he was anything but calm. His head was reeling from how quickly his situation had turned and how suddenly he was realizing what he had done. He had to marry Hermione Granger. If his mother had told him that this morning, he would have laughed in her face.

Her cheeks flushed and she shoved him again, backing him towards one of the walls.

"Oh whatever!" another shove sent him tumbling into a chair, which he quickly pulled himself out of. Ginny stood off to the side and watched her friend relieve pent up anger and stress on her future husband with a slight look of amusement.

"Granger, stop abusing me." Hermione barked a laugh and slapped him roughly across the shoulder. She had stopped crying.

"Abusing you? At least I haven't just bought away your future!" she yelled, turning on her heel and striding towards the door.

"Get back here, Granger!" he reached forward and grabbed her wrist. Hermione froze and turned to him slowly.

"You have no right to touch me, Malfoy." She yanked her arm away and glared at him, panting. Malfoy smirked.

"I do now, Granger." He didn't see the slap coming, but Ginny did. Before Hermione's hand could make contact with his face, she stepped forward and clasped Hermione's wrist.

"That's quite enough from both of you." Her voice was eerily calm, but her cheeks were flushed in the usual Weasley fashion. Hermione ripped her hand away and walked towards the door. Malfoy would have none of that.

"Granger, stop. I want you to come to dinner tonight!" Hermione stopped walking again and rotated towards him, eyes flickering briefly to Ginny. Ginny gave a slight nod of her head, encouraging her to say yes, and Hermione's gaze shifted back to Malfoy. He stared at her expectantly, trying his hardest not to show the anger and desperation he was feeling. He _needed_ her to cooperate here. She _needed_ to agree with him.

His stare turned pleading and he saw her stubborn façade falter for a brief moment before her gaze turned cold and she responded with a simple, "No."

She walked swiftly from the room, leaving Ginny and Draco alone. Ginny looked apologetically at him and patted him lightly on the arm before following her friend out. Draco looked around, sank into a chair and put his head in his hands, threading his fingers through his hair.

"Mate, you alright?" he looked up and saw Blaise leaning in the doorway of the waiting room, eyeing him with a slight amount of concern. Angelica was standing beside him, hand rested tentatively on his arm. She smiled slightly at Draco before directing her gaze to the floor.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Draco muttered, standing. He offered his hand to Angelica.

"Draco Malfoy," he introduced himself. Angelica smiled and took his hand.

"Angelica Franklin." She dropped his hand and Draco watched with mild jealousy and Blaise twined his fingers through Angelica's. She blushed a pale pink but said nothing.

"What happened?" Draco shook his head and looked incredulously at Blaise.

"She'll be the death of me, Zabini," Draco muttered. Blaise cracked a smile. If she was already driving him insane now, he had no idea how Draco would handle being married to her, but it'd be interesting to watch.

"Come out to lunch with us?" Blaise offered lightly. Draco shook his head.

"No, I'm going to eat at the Manor today." Blaise nodded and he and Angelica said their goodbyes. Draco stood alone in the empty room for a few minutes to gain his composure before he resigned himself to the fact that no matter what he said, his mother would be disappointed that he hadn't brought anyone home. He hoped Blaise was right and that his mother would like Granger.

"No point in delaying the inevitable," he muttered aloud, and headed with solemn determination towards the Floo Network.

* * *

"Hermione, do you want to talk?" Harry stood in the doorway of one of the many spare rooms of Grimmauld Place, watching Hermione charm pieces of paper into birds. Watching the birds fly around was calming to her. She liked the way they moved carefree through the air and how beautiful they looked in the beams of the dying afternoon sun that split through the crack in the thick drapes.

"No." Her voice was full of stubborn determination, but Harry could hear the rivers of emotion that spun underneath the icy reply. Harry sighed and sat down on the floor beside her, putting one arm over her shoulders. A solitary tear streaked down her cheek.

They watched the birds together in silence for a while. Harry was definitely scared for his friend. He doubted Malfoy would hurt her physically, but emotionally was another matter entirely. Two years was a long time, and Harry had no doubt Hermione would get attached to Draco. Being married to someone tended to cause attachment.

He laughed softly at that. Hermione looked at him and raise her eyebrow in question.

"I can't wait to see the kind of Hell you're capable of dragging Draco Malfoy through." He grinned at her and she managed a smile and a slight laugh.

"He'll have to try to get me first," she said lightly. Harry shrugged.

"Oh I'm sure Malfoy will give it his best effort. You made a dent in his fortune; he won't just let you run off." Harry squeezed her affectionately and then stood, offering his hand.

"Let's eat something, 'Mione." She smiled and stood, walking with Harry to rejoin their friends downstairs.

* * *

"Well?" Draco had barely stepped out of the hearth before Narcissa was upon him. She looked at him anxiously, brushing soot and stray hair from his forehead. He jerked his head back and sighed, trying to gently push past his mother.

"Draco, sit down." Her tone was commanding and Draco gave up his plan to escape to his room and collapsed onto the leather sofa. His mother smiled smugly and settled herself into her own chair. She folded her hands and looked expectantly at her son. She was concerned for Draco. He seemed exhausted and worried.

"Did you see Blaise there?" she broached the subject gently, trying to coax him into divulging what had happened. He nodded.

"And how did it go for him?" she pressed. Draco sighed and looked at her with annoyance.

"He got Angelica Franklin. She went to school with us." Narcissa nodded slowly, unsure who Angelica was. She figured Angelica must be a lovely girl for Blaise to have chosen her.

"And what about you, Draco? I was expecting you to bring her home for dinner or tea at the least." Draco sighed and fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Well how much did you spend?" she had meant the question as a joke, but Draco hadn't realized.

"Two-hundred-thousand galleons." Narcissa coughed slightly in her throat and sat up straighter.

"On whom, Draco?" Draco took a deep breath. It was now or never, he supposed.

"Granger. Hermione Granger." Narcissa said nothing, but she looked as if you could have knocked her over with a feather. Although Draco couldn't tell, she was exponentially pleased with his choice. Hermione Granger: stubborn, hardheaded, intelligent, brilliant, beautiful, controlling. She was everything Narcissa had hoped for and more.

"Hermione Granger? The same Hermione that we…" she trailed off, looking briefly at the center of the floor. Draco flushed and nodded. He hadn't even realized that when he was bidding.

Narcissa and Draco sat in silence, both contemplating the place on the floor that Granger had lay on. Since then, it had been stripped down and refinished. Most of the Manor had been completely redone after Lucius' imprisonment. Narcissa couldn't stand the dark, drab feeling that had hung around the old Manor. As such, curtains had been ripped down, oppressive flooring had been torn up, wings had been reopened and walls had been repainted. Offensive portraits had been removed and put in storage, and the dark, Gothic touches had all been taken away. Now the Manor was a light and airy building where Narcissa could sit happily for hours.

"Well where is she?" Draco scoffed at his mother's question and shook his head.

"How do you think she reacted when I won her?" he asked rhetorically. Narcissa nodded knowingly and looked down at her hands.

"Well Draco," she spoke, looking up at him, "You had better start groveling." Draco spluttered.

"Me? Grovel? Who the hell do you think I am, mother?" Narcissa stood and looked down on him, completely finished with the attitude he carried himself with. Her son needed a reality check, and he was going to get one right now.

"Draco Malfoy," she spoke quietly and threateningly, and every muscle in Draco's body locked up at the authoritative tone, "This ends now. You are nineteen years old, and you have been given a second chance at life that not many in your place received." She paused and waited for him to respond.

"I realize, mother." She raised her brows.

"Do you? Because I can't tell. You could be where your father is right now. You understand that, don't you? It is because of that girl and her friends that you are a free man today." Draco's cool resolve faltered and he nodded like a child being reprimanded for stealing a cookiw out of the kitchen.

"Hermione Granger is a lovely woman and you will do well to be good to her. She is exactly what you need, Draco. _Exactly_ what we need." Draco said nothing, but nodded slowly.

"Well what do you think I should do, mother?" he finally asked, resigned.

"Exactly what I told you to. Grovel." He sighed in annoyance.

"How? Usually girls come to me, mother. I've never had to go chasing after them."

"Girls love gifts," Narcissa said nonchalantly before leaning down to kiss her son on the cheek and walking out of the room, leaving a very annoyed Draco Malfoy in her wake.

* * *

The press had had an absolute heyday with the story. "Ex-Death Eater Bids On The Golden Girl" was a pretty catchy title. To avoid all of the publicity, Hermione had stayed in her flat for the entire weekend and had ignored most of the owls that had been sent to her, save for Harry's and Ron's. As Sunday night drew to a close, she realized grimly that she would have to brave the outside world the next morning to go to work. She looked warily at the stack of letters on her table that she had been avoiding all week. With a deep sigh she sat down and started at the top of the pile.

The first letter she picked up was from Molly Weasley, as was the second, third and fourth. All of them asked the same basic questions: How are you, are you eating, have you been sleeping, et cetera. She set them aside and made a mental note to owl Molly the next day.

She continued to dig through the pile of letters; setting aside ones she intended to respond to. She was nearly at the bottom of the stack when she came across two letters of interest: One bearing the seal of the Marriage Department and one with the seal of the Malfoys. She weighed the two in her hands and decided on the lesser of the two evils.

She ripped open the Marriage Department's letter and scanned what she had been sent. It was a reminder of the proceedings that were to follow: A marriage within three months and an heir within two years.

She tore open Malfoy's envelope with trepidation. The first thought that struck her was the he had very neat handwriting.

"_Hermione_," it started, "_Hello. It's__ Draco._" It was almost as if she could feel how uncomfortable he felt writing the letter. There were spots on the letters where the ink ran darker, as if he had stalled his pen there for several moments.

"_I'm just writing to see how you are… and to see if you'd want to get dinner with me on Friday (as in next Friday. Not tonight, obviously). I also wanted to extend my thanks to you for your cooperation, along with an apology. I know this is the last thing you probably want, and I promise I will attempt to make it as painless as possible._" Hermione frowned and finished the letter quickly before setting it aside, trying to decide whether or not to respond to it.

In the end, Hermione gave up on her post and decided on a long bath before she went to bed. The water was hot and relaxing. She sank in up to her neck and groaned.

The next three months would be a test to her patience and emotions, and the two years after… Hermione didn't even really want to think that far ahead.

"I am going to marry Draco Malfoy." Her voice echoed eerily around the bathroom. The sentence sounded unpleasant and unnatural as it rolled off her tongue. She said it again, just to reaffirm her belief.

Draco Malfoy always had been, and she was certain always would be, a chauvinistic, prejudiced cockroach.

Far too quickly her bath water grew cold and she forced herself out and into bed, dreading having to face her coworkers the next morning. She hoped and prayed that no one would bring it up, although she knew it was naïve to wish that.

When she arrived at her job in the Ministry's Auror department, nearly every eye was on her. There were offers of, "Good morning," which she returned lightly, rushing to her office and slamming the door shut.

Hermione had begun her job at the Ministry the day after she had graduated from Hogwarts. She was the Head of Intelligence for the Auror department, working closely beside Ron and Harry, the head Aurors. Her general jobs were organization of paperwork and information, following leads, assigning missions and tasks; essentially running the department. She loved every moment of her job; especially the time it allowed her to spend with Ron and Harry.

She had just set down her bag and paperwork when her door flew open and Harry and Ron barged in.

"Hermione, where have you been?" Harry demanded, pulling her into a hug and looking her up and down. Hermione barely had time to say hello before Ron gave her a similar treatment.

"You could have owled us, 'Mione. We thought Malfoy might have kidnapped you." He gave her a slight wink and Hermione saw a glimpse of Fred Weasley for a moment. A smile broke across her rosy lips.

"I'm sorry, boys. I just needed some time." They nodded understandingly, Ron's eyes drifting to the pile of paperwork. He groaned and motioned towards it.

"Please tell me that isn't for us." Hermione gave him a wicked smile.

"Oh it is. Lunch today?" Arrangements for lunch were made and Harry and Ron said goodbye, heading out for a quick assignment. She smiled as they left and sat down in her chair, setting to work on the papers.

She had less than five minutes of peace before there was a knock at the office door and a delivery wizard walked in. She gaped.

In his hands were what looked like two-dozen red roses and a box of Muggle chocolates.

"Hermione Granger?" the young wizard looked up expectantly at her. Hermione nodded in confusion and then stepped forward, taking the large vase of roses from his hand and setting them on her desk. She turned back to retrieve the chocolates and the man handed her a note.

"Thank you," she mumbled, blushing when she recognized the handwriting on the note.

"From Master Malfoy I'd expect," the man grinned cockily at her and she opened her mouth to ask how he knew about that.

"All over the Prophet, miss. Skeeter wrote quite the article." He winked at her and left without another word. Hermione shook her head and set down the chocolates next to the roses before opening the envelope.

"_Hello. Just thought these flowers and chocolates would brighten up your Monday. I'm still anxiously awaiting your answer about Friday. Yours, Draco._" What was wrong with him? First of all, the roses must have cost more money than she made in a day at work, and secondly, how had he gotten her Muggle chocolates? And her favorite brand, as well. She stared at them for a second before setting them on a small table beside her door. If this was the way he was going to try to win her heart, that was downright pathetic. Hermione Granger could not be bought… Well technically she supposed she could be, but that wasn't the point. Draco Malfoy could not flatter his way into her life with the use of chocolate and roses.

The rest of her day passed rather uneventfully. Harry and Ron had been thoughtful enough to bring lunch to her office so she could avoid the media circus they assured her was stationed outside the Ministry.

The mission that Harry and Ron had been on that afternoon was to check a small town in Germany after a report of a Death Eater spotting had come from the German Ministry. There had been crops of sightings from England to as far as America and Asia, but so far nothing had turned up. There were still two big names they were looking for: Fenrir Greyback and Antonin Dolohov.

"They thought they saw Greyback and Dolohov," Harry said noncommittally. Both he and Ron seriously doubted the idea.

"Where was this mission again?"

"Outside of Berlin. Little wizarding village in a forest." Hermione shook her head.

"That hardly makes sense. What business would they have in Germany?" Ron and Harry both shrugged.

"No idea, but this little witch gave a pretty accurate description of Greyback." Harry answered thoughtfully.

"You don't honestly believe that Dolohov and Greyback were there, do you mate? We both saw that village. There were hardly a hundred witches and wizards there." Harry shrugged at Ron.

"Who knows? Could be. Their bodies were never recovered from Hogwarts, and the only one who we have a pretty sure cause of death for is Greyback." Hermione smiled and then said, "But I only hit him with a stunning spell. It's very possible he's still alive."

In the last two years there had been attacks around Europe that mimicked those of Death Eaters, without the Dark Mark in the sky. The opinion of the attacks was very split. Half of the Ministry thought it was just miscellaneous Voldemort sympathizers trying to start a movement, and the other half were certain it was Greyback and Dolohov wreaking havoc.

Lunch fell silent for a few moments.

"Have either of you read the article Rita Skeeter wrote about me?" she asked thoughtfully. Harry and Ron both looked at each other and then to her, nodding. She swallowed her food audibly.

"How bad was it?" she tentatively inquired. Ron shrugged and Harry looked down.

"She insinuated that you two have been dating in secret for months." Hermione burst into laughter at Harry's response and then gestured to the roses that still sat on her desk.

"He sent you those?" Ron gawked at the obnoxiously large bouquet.

Hermione nodded.

"And a box of chocolates." She flicked her wand and summoned the chocolates over. After a moment of thought she held them out to Ron, who devoured them in less than five minutes. It gave Hermione a slight amount of satisfaction to watch him eat the chocolate Draco had intended to be a gift to her. Harry cocked his eyebrow at her in amusement but said nothing as they watched him down the whole box.

"Give my fanks to Maffoy," he garbled around a mouthful of coconut filled truffles. Hermione and Harry both erupted into laughter at how ridiculous he looked and sounded.

On Tuesday morning, Hermione opened her office door and was surprised to find another two-dozen roses perched on her desk. She dropped her stuff on the floor and strode forward, removing the card that was nestled amongst the stems.

"_Hermione, enjoy these flowers and this certificate for you, Ginny and Cho. DM._"

She opened the envelope and groaned in annoyance. It was a certificate for a spa with more than enough money for three packages. She set the envelope down on her desk and sighed; Malfoy was going to annoy her half to death. She moved the day old roses to the table beside her door and situated the newer roses at the corner of her desk with a slight frown. She had to admit to herself that they were gorgeous roses. But they were from Draco Malfoy, and Hermione refused to go down without a fight… But it would be a shame to let a manicure and pedicure slide through her fingertips, so that night she Floo'd to 12 Grimmauld Place, knowing Ron and Cho would likely be there.

"So this is from Malfoy?" Ginny reaffirmed as the three girls sat together at a magical spa in Diagon Alley. Hermione nodded absently and watched one of the employees paint her toenails.

"That was nice of him," Cho said mildly, gauging Hermione's reaction. She scowled and said nothing, not wanting to admit that yes, it was quite nice of Malfoy.

"Hermione, you know this whole thing would be less strenuous if you would just…" Ginny trailed off, unsure how to proceed. Hermione needed to get used to the idea of being married to, living with and getting along with Draco Malfoy, and she was fighting the idea all the way.

"Just what, Ginny? Just accept the fact that in three months I won't be Hermione Granger anymore? I'll be Hermione Malfoy against my will? That eventually I'll have to have a child with that… That…" Hermione couldn't think of the words she wanted to use against Draco Malfoy.

"Well, yes," Cho said. Hermione turned to her with an open mouth.

"Are you serious?" she stammered. Cho said nothing.

"He's really putting forth a good effort, Hermione. When I talked to him he seemed quite serious." Hermione said nothing but her face flushed.

"It's not like it matters anyways, Ginny. Either way we have to get married." The rest of the spa visit was silent.

* * *

"_Hello Hermione… You haven't responded to any of my owls, but no matter. I trust you've enjoyed the gifts I've sent you thus far. I hope you find this gift equally as flattering, and I can't wait to see you in it on Friday night. I will pick you up at six. Yours inevitably, Draco._"

Hermione put the note down and eyed the bag with unease. It was black with golden lettering that read, "_La Boutique Magique_". It was a wizarding clothing store in Paris that had opened earlier that year, and was notoriously expensive.

She read the note again and found herself chuckling at the closing.

"_Inevitably yours_. Well he has that right at least." She took away the first layer of tissue paper and set it aside before pulling out the tissue wrapped garment. She glanced over her shoulder and double-checked that the door was still closed. With trembling fingers she unwrapped the tissue paper and held up the dress.

It was floor-length, dark teal and made of silk. The neckline was a deep V and the back scooped down with long sleeves. It was absolutely gorgeous. It would be unfair for her to deny that. It would also be unfair to deny that it probably cost a small fortune, as did the third set of two-dozen red roses.

"This is getting a bit ridiculous," she spoke aloud.

"What is?" Hermione whirled around and saw Ron leaning against the door of her office. She held the dress out in front of her awkwardly and then coughed, folding the garment onto itself and shoving it unceremoniously into the bag.

"Draco. He's getting ridiculous." Ron raised an eyebrow.

"So he's Draco now?" Hermione blushed and shook her head.

"No, still Malfoy. Slip of the tongue," she paused and then said, "What do you need?" her tone was sharper than she had intended and Ron frowned.

"Nothing, just wanted to check on you. Ginny said you were a little, uh… Out of sorts last night," he said delicately. Hermione groaned and sat down on her desk, narrowly missing the vase of roses.

"Yes will, the idea of marrying Draco Malfoy is a bit upsetting, Ronald," she snipped, steadying the teetering flowers Ron nodded.

"You still have me and Harry, y'know." Hermione smiled.

"I know, and thank you. Will you be around for lunch today?"

After Ron left, Hermione pulled out the dress and looked at it again briefly before folding it neatly and placing it gently back into the bag with care.

* * *

"Women are infuriating!" Draco stormed into his mother's study and dropped into a chair by the fireplace, crossing his legs and throwing his head back with angst. Narcissa looked up mildly from the book she was reading and frowned.

"You still haven't heard anything from her?" Draco shook his head in annoyance and looked at his mother.

"You have no idea how much money I've spent on her." Narcissa shook her head and set down the book.

"Well what have you sent her?"

"Well now a total of six dozen roses, chocolate, a spa certificate and a dress," he replied tiredly. Narcissa surprised him by laughing.

"What?" he demanded, standing up and walking over to her.

"Those gifts don't mean a thing to Hermione. They're all impersonal," she said lightly. Draco scowled.

"What do you mean?"

"Any man could give her what you've given her so far. Make it something special." Draco's irritation level rose.

"Like what? A dress isn't bloody special?" Narcissa looked back down at her book and said nothing. Draco glared at her before turning on his heel and parading out of the room.

* * *

When Hermione walked into her office on Thursday, there were no roses waiting for her. She was irritated with herself to admit that she was slightly disappointed. She sullenly sat at her desk and did nothing but fill out paperwork for the remainder of her day, declining Harry's invitation for lunch.

Towards the end of the day she found herself picking up a piece of parchment and a quill. She hesitated over it before she dipped the quill into her bottle of ink.

"_Malfoy, thank you for the gifts. I will see you on Friday._"

Satisfied, she sent her owl away with the short note in its claws. She decided that a late night of work was in order, not wanting to go to her flat quite yet. For some reason the idea of an empty house wasn't appealing to her, and she was a bit behind on the case files.

As she worked on decreasing the pile of paperwork on her desk, she allowed her mind to wander. Draco's gifts were a nice gesture, to be sure. It showed that he at least had some intention of trying to make this easier on her. She still had no idea why Draco would possibly want to marry her, as she was certain there were much more eligible witches for him. Had Draco possibly changed? Could his unadulterated hate for her have subsided in just two years? She couldn't discount the possibility; more miraculous things had happened. Regardless of his current notions towards Hermione, she was soundly sure that he would never feel anything more for her than friendship at the most, and even that was doubtful. He was most likely only being this nice because he needed her cooperation, which Hermione was still trying her best not to willingly give.

Her thoughts drifted to the dinner tomorrow night. She supposed it would be their first date, and if the dress was any indication, it would be somewhere far more expensive and elaborate than Hermione wanted. The press coverage would be extraordinary. Wherever she and Draco Malfoy went, the newspapers would undoubtedly follow. That, she supposed, is what happens when the son of a notorious Death Eater and one-third of the Golden Trio go on a date.

She laughed. It sounded like the pitch line for a bad reality-TV show.

Her mother had always told her that the situation you're in is as much as you make of it, and she supposed being married to Malfoy followed the same rule. She couldn't change the position she was in, but she could do her best to make the most of it.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: My god I am so sorry about the delay. It's finals week again, yaaay. Anyways, here's an update for you all. A bit shorter than normal but I didn't want ****to add too much. Next chapter will be normal length again. Thank you all!**

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Date**

Twelve words. He had spent a considerable amount of money on gifts and flowers and all he got in response was _twelve bloody words_. It was hardly a heartfelt response, hardly an appropriate thanks and hardly an encouraging sign.

He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace with the letter held in his hand, torn between throwing it in and not. In the end he decided to keep it, tucking it into his desk drawer. She had, at the very least, consented to their dinner, which was slightly promising.

Draco had taken his time in deciding where to take Hermione, but eventually he had decided on a small restaurant in France that he owned quite a bit of. The manager was a friend, and Draco had no problem getting in a last minute reservation. He had planned most of the night out: He would pick Granger up at six from her flat and they would apparate together directly into the restaurant to eliminate the amount of press they would get. After that he supposed they would eat and talk, and then of course he had planned to propose to her because, well… They had to get married.

He had agonized for hours over the ring. It was, after all, _the ring_. Even in the Magical World, engagement rings were very important and traditional. He had gone to ten different ring stores in the Wizarding world across three different countries and he had found nothing. He had even brought his mother with for advice. On Friday morning he had given in and gone to a Muggle ring store (he had found himself frequenting Muggle stores that week), thinking it may be more Hermione's 'style', but he had still found nothing. All of the rings he had seen had been too ornate and too complicated. None of them had been appropriate for her. He had almost purchased a white-gold, three stoned ring, but just as he was going to a shadow of doubt had crossed his mind, and he had opted out.

After a whole week of failed attempts, he had retreated back to the Manor in defeat.

"How did the Muggle store pan out?" Narcissa asked lazily, taking a sip of her tea. Draco shook his head and groaned in annoyance.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Narcissa stood up and walked over to a portrait on the wall and swung it forward, revealing a safe.

"Well I had a thought," she said, pressing her palm to the safe and muttering a short incantation.

"A thought?" Draco prompted as the safe creaked open and a large puff of dust blew out. His mother waved her hand in front of her face and sneezed daintily before beginning to dig around in the safe.

"Well I thought this may work," she finally said, pulling out a black velvet box. Draco stood and walked over as his mother cracked open the case. He looked inside and felt the corners of his mouth pull up in a slight smile.

"Where'd you get this?" he asked, gently taking the box from his mother's hands.

"It was your grandmother's. Don't you recognize it?" Draco shook his head, eyes locked on the ring.

It was a rose gold ring with three large, pink-hued diamonds: The largest in the middle and the two smaller set on the side. The arms holding the pink diamonds were encrusted with smaller diamonds, and even more stones trailed down the sides. On the edges of the band there were small snakes curling up to meet the diamonds, carved thinly into the gold.

For a brief moment Draco imagined it on Hermione's slender finger. He had to admit to himself that the image was not unpleasant. He could see her wearing it as she worked, catching the light as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear, shining as she held the child they would eventually have. He quite liked it, to be honest.

"What do you think?" Draco snapped the ring case shut and slid it into his pocket.

"I think it's perfect, mother." Draco meant every word he said.

"Come here, Draco." Narcissa beckoned him over calmly. He stepped forward and Narcissa smiled and pulled at his suit, straightening the lapels. Normally Draco would have pulled away from her motherly display, but there was something comforting in her care.

"Are you ready for tonight?" she asked, holding her song out at arm's length.

"I suppose so." Narcissa was immensely proud of her son and the progress he was making. She hadn't heard him say anything derogatory about Hermione all week. She hoped desperately that this was a sign of Draco's long overdue change.

"Be nice, Draco," she warned sternly, "and do ask her over for tea tomorrow? Just us girls." Draco's brow creased and he nodded.

"Have a wonderful night, dear." Narcissa paused and studied her son's face. There was so much of Lucius in his features, but his eyes no longer held the hard gleam they had developed.

"I'm sure I will," he assured. Narcissa smiled fleetingly and kissed her son on the cheek. He pulled away from her grasp and pace to the front door to apparate.

"Draco," she said suddenly. Malfoy turned to her.

"I'm quite proud of you." Draco faltered and he quietly spoke.

"Thank you, mother."

* * *

Hermione paced uncomfortably across her living room, fidgeting with her dress. It fit her perfectly, hugging her curves. When she wasn't focusing on how well the dress fit and how beautiful it looked, she was busy being embarrassed with how form fitting it was. She liked her clothes to hang a bit looser on her, preferring not to draw attention to her apparently desirable physique. She had managed to once again tame her wild hair and had even taken out some of her makeup.

Now she just had to wait for Malfoy. Her stomach flipped with nerves.

"Oh come on Hermione," she spoke aloud, smoothing down her dress, "You've done more terrifying things than go on a date with Draco Malfoy." She chuckled at herself. That was definitely true.

Hermione jumped at the knock on her door. With a deep breath she opened it quickly.

"Hello, Granger." Draco gracefully extended his hand to her. Hermione took it and was surprised when Draco stepped forward and raised her hand to his lips.

"Hello, Malfoy," she said, embarrassed by the breathless quality that had invaded her voice. She hadn't expected him to be so pleasant. She had been more than prepared to deal with the Draco she had grown to deal with, but here he was in front of her, being a flawless gentleman.

He was dressed impeccably in a suit that Hermione strongly suspected was of Muggle origin. The black jacket and pants fit him excellently, and his blond hair was slicked back into submission. He looked a bit like a fair James Bond.

Hermione decided on not mentioning James Bond, aiming to avoid a no doubt lengthy discussion about the Muggle character it would cause.

He raised a pale eyebrow, seemingly reading her mind.

"Expecting someone else?" he drawled lightly. Hermione blushed.

"Something like that." Draco's mouth twitched into a half smile.

"Well the person you're expecting won't be coming," he assure blithely, "He is far gone."

Hermione had expected a different sort of atmosphere between them. She had anticipated an uncomfortable, cold aura but instead what she felt was a warm, easy climate that Draco presented.

"Well that's splendid." She hadn't meant for her tone to sound so sarcastic, but it did.

Draco frowned and quickly retracted his hand from hers.

"I'm attempting to be pleasant, Granger. Your cooperation would be appreciated." His tone was clipped and the bite it carried reminded her of Snape's. She straightened herself up.

"You have my cooperation, Malfoy," she replied tonelessly. Draco sneered at her and offered his arm. She shook her head.

"I'm not going anywhere with you if you're going to be an arse to me," she stated angrily. She had expected this would happen, but it still irritated her to no end. They had been in a room together for less than ten minutes and they had already started to argue. There was no way this would work.

"I'm not being an arse, Granger. You were the one being sarcastic with me." Hermione put her hands on her hips.

"Well forgive me for being nervous!" she snapped, exasperated and frustrated. Draco frowned and took a step forward.

"You're nervous?" Hermione blushed and shook her head furiously. Draco sighed.

"Don't lie to me, Granger. You've always been awful at it. Can we have this talk over dinner?" his tone was gentle and coaxing, and he offered his arm to her again. This time she took it, and with a snap they apparated into the lobby of the restaurant.

Hermione was pleasantly surprised. She had expected something gaudy and showy, but instead was greeted with a traditional French restaurant. There were no gold-leafed ceilings, no stained glass panels and no crystal chandeliers. It was definitely lavish enough for her dress, but it wasn't overly done. She was quite pleased.

"Impressed?" Hermione frowned slightly at the aloof tone in Draco's voice. She didn't want to feed his ego anymore by agreeing with him.

"Reasonably so." Draco opened his mouth to offer a retort to her backhanded answer when a large man dressed in a dirty white apron lumbered into the room.

"Master Malfoy!" he exclaimed, stepping forward to shake Draco's hand. Draco reached forward amicably and grasped the man's hand firmly.

"Hello, Gustav. It's so good to see you again." Gustav grinned and released Malfoy's hand, turning his attention to Hermione.

"And who is this lovely lady?" he asked, offering his hand to her as well. Hermione offered hers uncomfortably in return and restrained a yelp when Gustav leaned forward to kiss both of her cheeks chastely. Draco barely contained his flush of annoyance.

"This, Gustav, is Hermione Granger." Gustav grinned and clapped Draco on the shoulder.

"And this is the gem you picked?" Draco nodded and snaked his arm around Hermione's waist. She stiffened at his embrace but did not pull away, trying to put forward a good face in front of Draco's friend.

"Indeed it is. So tell me, what's for dinner this evening?" Gustav took Draco's less than obvious cue and burst into a boisterous and excited explanation of the meal he had planned out for them. As he led the couple through the restaurant, Hermione noticed it was completely empty, and she was secretly grateful for that. Avoiding the press was something she had wanted. This relationship would be hard enough without Rita Skeeter and every other ravenous article writer after them.

After Gustav had seated them and bustled out of the room, Draco took one of the wine glasses sitting on the table in his slender fingers and held it towards Hermione in a toast.

"To us." Hermione mimicked the action and listened as the ring from the crystal reverberated across the room.

"Whatever 'us' is." Draco grinned at her statement and brought the glass to his lips. Hermione had never had a taste for wine, but she quite liked this one. She had no doubt it probably cost a fortune, however.

"So you're nervous?" Hermione groaned. She had hoped he would have dropped that conversation.

"Must we get into this?" Draco leaned forward and put his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them.

"Yes." Hermione sighed and resisted the urge to pull at her hair, something she tended to do under strain.

"Well, you're Malfoy. Isn't that reason enough?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I haven't the slightest idea what you mean by that," he responded honestly with his traditional aloof undertone Hermione sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.

"I haven't seen or heard from you since your trial, and then all of a sudden I'm being forced to marry you. You, who for most of my life tried your very hardest to make it miserable," her voice had picked up momentum and she was trying to control her volume, "And succeeded grandly for many years. You, the Death Eater who was responsible for… Quite a few things." She trailed off when she saw Draco's white-knuckled grip on the table and the mildly distressed look on his face. He was looking to the left of her, at the wall.

"Anything else you'd like to say?" he finally asked quietly, slightly relaxing his grip on the table. The tone of his voice made Hermione shudder. It was not the tone of a cruel boy, but the tone of a regretful man.

"No." Draco finally dragged his eyes to meet hers.

"You have reason to be anxious," he released slowly. "Everything you've said is true, and I know that an infinite amount of apologies will never make up for it." His eyes drifted slowly down her face and followed the slim curve of her neck before going back to meet hers.

"Let me prove to you that I'm not the same as I was, Granger. I know you don't want this, and I'm sorry that I took your choice away from you. That is what you're most afraid of, isn't it? Not having control here?" Hermione found herself nodding, listening to every word he was saying, realizing he was right.

"Yes. There's nothing I can do here," she muttered softly, her eyes taking their own journey across Draco's face and down to his fingers, which had all but relinquished their grip.

"I promise you that I can make us both as happy as we can be under the circumstances. We just need to fulfill the Ministry's requirements and then this can all go away." Hermione's eyes snapped back to his and she flushed.

"This is just about meeting requirements to you, isn't it? You don't honestly care about the relationship we have to be in." Her tone betrayed the slight amount of hurt she felt. Draco shook his head slowly, cursing himself for his choice of words.

"No, I do. But I'm not sure where you are with this situation." Hermione put her head in her hands and spoke to the table.

"I'm at the point of acceptance. Acceptance that I am stuck in this awful situation and that I have to deal with it." She looked up to him and smiled sadly.

"I understand. I truly do." Draco meant what he said.

"I'm not trying to fight you, Malfoy," she sighed with defeat. All of her frustrated, angry walls had fallen and she was bare and raw in front of him. There was no point in battling this now.

"I know." Hermione raised her head back up and looked at him curiously. She no longer saw the hardened face of the boy who had harassed her and her friends, the boy who had been on the wrong side. It was the anguished face of someone who was trying to prove a point, to show the change that had perhaps taken him.

"I'm sorry, Draco." He jolted at her use of his first name, unprepared to hear it.

"Thank you, Hermione." She gave him a small smile and then straightened as Gustav rounded the corner with a tray of food. Malfoy did the same and flashed a brilliant grin for him.

"It smells amazing, Gustav." Hermione couldn't have heard a truer thing. She had always had a weakness for pasta, and being set before her was the most delicious looking spaghetti meal that she had ever seen.

"You're too kind, Master Malfoy!" the chef boasted jovially as he set down Draco's dish. He scurried as quickly as he could out of the room.

"Draco," Hermione began as she unwrapped her silverware, "Why is the entire restaurant empty?" Draco smiled lazily.

"I own it. I actually rented the whole place out to avoid people. I figured it'd be easier to get through to you without every pair of eyes on us." Hermione nodded and took a bite of her meal.

"This is amazing," she said honestly. Draco nodded.

"I know." He looked at her appreciatively. Now that she had relaxed, the line between her eyebrows had disappeared and her face appeared to glow. She almost seemed excited to be there with him.

She really was beautiful. The way her hair played in the light and how it illuminated the highpoints on her face. He liked the way her lips curled up mischievously when she smiled and the way her eyes became serious when she asked him questions and how intently she drank in his answers. He watched her fingers as she placed her napkin in her lap, took a sip of her wine or picked up her utensils. Everything about Hermione seemed nearly fluid, much unlike the gawky, gangly girl he had grown up with.

"Draco," she said his name and he snapped out of his observations. He looked down at his plate and realized he had hardly eaten a thing.

"Sorry, yes?"

"Dessert?" she motioned to Gustav, who had appeared out of nowhere. Draco jolted upwards and nodded.

"You first," he said. Hermione chuckled.

"I've already gone, Malfoy." Draco laughed uncomfortably and said, "What she chose." Gustav nodded and bowed before walking away once again.

"What distracted you?" she asked teasingly, swirling her wine glass slowly.

"You," he answered honestly. Hermione blushed.

"Me?"

"You're very beautiful, Hermione." She shifted in her chair and her blush grew more pronounced. An errant strand of hair had begun to work its way loose from Draco's gel, and as he spoke it fell slightly across his forehead. Slowly she reached her hand across the table and brushed it back into place with trembling fingers. Draco sighed at her touch and unconsciously leaned into it, raising his hand to her wrist.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

After they finished their dessert and thanked Gustav, Draco led Hermione into the waiting area yet again. They were silent, each waiting for the other to say something.

"How was dinner?" Draco finally asked, looking expectantly at her.

"It was delicious. Thank you." She smiled at him.

"My mother wants you to come for tea tomorrow… She asked me to tell you that." Hermione smiled.

"I'd love to."

Draco swayed awkwardly. He wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to go about the proposal bit. Did he get down on one knee, as was tradition? Or did he hand her the box and ask? Should he take the ring out of the box? He decided to wing it.

"Hermione," he began slowly, reaching into his pocket and palming the ring box, "Will you wear this?" he pulled out the box and flipped it open, displaying the antique to her. She gasped quietly.

"It's beautiful," she murmured. Draco nodded.

"It was my grandmother Black's. I thought it suited you." He pulled the ring out of the box and reached forward, taking Hermione's left hand. He deftly slid the ring on and they both looked at it in silence.

"It fits," he said quietly. Hermione nodded and then flung her arms around Draco's neck, taking him by surprise. He clumsily wrapped his arms around her waist until she pulled herself away.

"Thank you, Draco. Thank you so much." Her arms remained around his neck until he pulled back and held out his arm to apparate her home. With a loud pop the appeared outside her door and she removed her hand almost immediately.

"Thank you for accompanying me tonight," he said formally. Hermione nodded stiffly, aware of the tension that had invaded the space between them. It wasn't an unpleasant tension, but the kind of tension that appears before something fantastic occurs .

As if he read her thoughts, Draco raised his hand and placed it on Hermione's cheek before leaning forward and gently brushing his lips against hers. They were warm against her mouth and she couldn't help but lean into his kiss.

Before long Draco pulled away, not wanting to spoil the moment he hadn't planned on creating.

"I'll owl you," he said, taking his hand away from her cheek. She nodded silently, trying to control the blush that had crept onto her face and neck again.

"Right. Goodnight, Draco." She opened her door quickly and slinked inside.

* * *

Draco apparated quietly into the drawing room of Malfoy Manor and was thankful that it was empty and his mother was nowhere to be found. After a moment he sat down on the chaise lounge that was situated across from the fireplace and leaned his head back. It had not been his intention to kiss her or even hug her for that matter. The hug had been her initiation, but the kiss… It was something about how she had swayed slightly on her feet, the way her eyes flitted downwards and then back up and how delicious her lips looked.

"Draco?" his mother's voiced trailed from down the hall into the room. He sat up as she peered around the door and smiled at her son. She was wearing her black nightgown and her long black and blond hair was braided off to the side. She must have been in bed.

"Did I wake you, mother?" Narcissa shook her head and walked fully into the room, sitting down beside her son.

"No, I was waiting up for you." Draco cracked a legitimate smile and Narcissa beamed at it.

"I'm not a child, mother. You needn't wait up for me." There was real humor in his voice, something Narcissa had feared she would never hear again.

"You may not be a child, but I will always be your mother," her voice was firm and caring. Draco smiled and nodded in agreement at the sentiment.

"How was it? Truthfully, Draco," she added at the smirk on his face.

"Truthfully… Everything I hoped for and more." If it was even been possible, Narcissa's grin widened.

"Really? Do I get to hear about it?" Narcissa's tone was eager and Draco could nearly feel the excitement and happiness radiating off it.

"We had dinner and we discussed the… Situation." Narcissa nodded and waited for her son to continue. He was staring into the fire, trying to decide which bits and pieces to tell his mother.

"And she warmed up to it quite well after we discussed it." Narcissa smiled happily.

"That's good. I told you she would, dear." Draco scowled at his mother and continued.

"And then I gave her the ring and-," Narcissa cut him off excitedly.

"Did she like it?" Draco nodded mildly.

"And then I took her home," he finished matter-of-factly. Narcissa's smile had been unfaltering through the entire story.

"Is she coming by for tea tomorrow?" Narcissa asked keenly. Draco nodded marginally.

"I'm so happy for you, Draco. So very happy." For the second time that night, Draco Malfoy was surprised with a very tight hug.

* * *

As soon as Hermione stepped inside she rushed to her bedroom to change out of the dress, hanging it carefully and replacing it with Muggle clothing. She checked the time as she walked quickly through the kitchen. It was only nine o'clock; Ginny would still be awake.

Less than a minute later she stepped into the living room of Grimmauld Place. Harry looked up from the novel he was reading and jumped from the couch.

"Hermione, what's wrong? Why are you here? Did something happen?" he approached her quickly and grabbed her shoulders, looking into her eyes. Hermione shook her head.

"Nothing. I just wanted to talk to Ginny." Harry dropped his hands from her shoulders and sighed in relief.

"Thank Merlin. I thought something had happened with Malfoy." Hermione shook her head.

"No, nothing happened. He was actually a perfect gentleman." There was a tone of wonder in her voice and Harry frowned.

"Malfoy? A gentleman? Are you sure it was actually him?" Hermione laughed.

"Oh I'm positive. Even though he was a gentleman he was still Malfoy." Harry nodded knowingly.

"Is that Hermione?" Ginny's head peered around the corner and split into a large grin. She bounded across the room and tore Hermione away from Harry, pulling her into a hug.

"How was it?" she led them into the kitchen, away from Harry's no doubt prying ears.

"It wasn't as bad as I thought, to be honest." Ginny grinned triumphantly.

"I knew it. I knew he wouldn't always be a complete arse." Hermione sighed in annoyance and then paused before holding out her left hand. Ginny bounded across the kitchen and grabbed it.

"That's gorgeous, Hermione." Ginny turned her hand side-to-side and watched as the pink diamonds hit the light.

"It was his grandmother's," Hermione said quietly. She hadn't taken the time to consider the emotions attached to the family heirloom. She had no doubt the ring meant a great deal to Narcissa, as it was her mother's.

"Really? Well she had great taste." Hermione smiled and began to tell Ginny about her dinner with Draco, starting with the spat they had had beforehand and the discussion they had had, and ending with their kiss.

"Well how was it?" Ginny rested her head in her hands. Hermione blushed.

"I don't think that's any of your business Ginevra Weasley." Ginny groaned.

"That's Potter. Ginevra Potter," the ginger said seriously. Hermione laughed.

"It was good. The entire date was good." Ginny nodded in triumph. She had known it wouldn't take Hermione and Malfoy long to come around. They were both reasonable people with good heads on their shoulders, similar interests and goals in life.

"I'm having tea with Mrs. Malfoy tomorrow," Hermione added.

The two girls talked long into the night, and when Hermione finally Floo'd home around one in the morning, she was exhausted and nearly didn't hear the tapping at her window. She cracked it open and was surprised to see a jet-black owl fly in and perch itself on her counter. In its talons there was a large package and a note. As soon as she took them away the owl took flight and waited expectantly on the windowsill. She eyed it for a moment before turning her attention to the note. It was sealed with the Malfoy crest and she couldn't help the grin that split her face.

"_Hermione, I had a wonderful time at dinner. Please accept this last gift. Yours, Draco Malfoy._" Hermione turned the note over.

"_The ring suits you._"

She eyed the package with trepidation before tearing into the wrappings with finality. Almost instantly her eyes filled with tears.

Sitting before her was a first edition copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ in pristine condition. There were only three known copies of this particular book: One in the Hogwarts library, one in the Ministry for Magic, and now one sitting on Hermione Granger's unworthy kitchen counter. She very carefully lifted it and cracked open the first page. On the inside of the cover was Bathilda Bagshot's signature. Hermione nearly keeled over and died of excitement on the spot. She fanned the tears out of her eyes and picked up the book gently before walking quickly to her bedroom. With a flick of her wand she cleared a space on her bookshelf of rare volumes and gingerly set her newest book in the center, where it seemed to gleam in the light. She admired the display for several moments, calming the pace of her heart before she sat at her desk and pulled out her parchment and quill.

"_Draco, thank you so much for the book. I can't believe you had a copy of it. I'll see you soon. Much_-," Hermione stopped writing. She had been about to write "_Much love_". Her quill hovered over the page, trying to decide if she should scrap it or just continue.

"_Much love, Hermione_."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I think you guys have killed me. Over 200 followers? Eeeeeeeeeeeee. Much love!**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Tea with Narcissa**

The next morning, Hermione Granger woke up in a blissfully happy mood. For whatever inexplicable reason, she was wildly happy to be invited over to the Manor for tea. Although at first she was slightly nervous about returning to Malfoy Manor after her previous visit years ago, she pushed the memories aside and willed herself to maintain a positive attitude. The entire situation was different. They were in different times with different attitudes, and this time there were no crazy Death Eaters trying to kill her.

It took Hermione several minutes to decide what she was going to wear. It came down to a decision between a light blue sundress and a pair of dark blue jeans and a nice blouse. The sundress eventually won out. It was beautiful out and it was likely they would be talking outside. As she stepped out of her room, she doubled back and grabbed her engagement ring, slipping it onto her finger and smiling.

Just as Hermione was about to step out of her flat to apparate, there was a familiar tapping at her window. Draco's black owl was fluttering on the ledge and it assumed its position on her kitchen counter as soon as she opened the window. In its grasp what yet another note, again sealed with the Malfoy crest. She smiled as she ripped the seal open.

"_Hermione, I'm glad you chose to respond to me this time_."

"Prat," Hermione laughed to herself.

"_I'm being forced to leave the Manor for the afternoon, and I thought it fair to warn you that my mother wants to talk about wedding plans with you (at least, that's what I assumed she meant when she said "girl talk")._" Hermione groaned. She had nearly forgotten about the imminent wedding. While she no longer dreaded the impending marriage, she definitely wasn't excited about her forced nuptials. She didn't want to admit to herself that she was starting to like Draco, but she was. It was the fact that he had accepted her fear of lack of control and had tried very hard to work with her. He had, for the first time she had seen, shown true understanding and empathy for her situation and had put himself aside in order to comprehend her. It was that glimmer of a different Draco that had set her over the edge.

"_I'm very glad you enjoyed the book. It's been in the libraries here at the manor for ages and I figured it deserved a home with someone as wonderful as it is._" Hermione blushed at his compliment.

"_Monday afternoon, if you're open, I'd like to take you to lunch. Please owl me back with your response. I won't stand to be ignored again, Granger_." She could almost hear the humor in his voice.

"_In a splendid mood, D.M._" Hermione folded the note carefully and then walked to her room and slipped the note in with the other notes she had from him. She kept them in her top left desk drawer behind a stack of pencils.

"_Draco, you're quite lucky I didn't ignore you this time, you arrogant prat. I'm sorry your mother is making you leave, but I'm sure you'll find some way to keep yourself busy. Monday sounds fine." _Hermione paused, unsure how to sign this note.

"_Craving more pasta, Hermione_." Satisfied with her response, she rose from her chair and walked swiftly back into her kitchen, handing the note to the charcoal black bird. It nipped at her with affection before taking flight through her open window. She watched it go until it was a speck before she stepped out of her flat and with a deep breath apparated to Malfoy Manor.

* * *

"Blaise, wake up." Draco pounded at Blaise's door. It was ten in the afternoon and his Italian friend was no doubt still asleep. Draco sighed in annoyance and took out his wand.

"_Alohamora_." The locked clicked open and Draco cautiously opened the door, stepping into Blaise's small house.

Blaise lived slightly outside wizarding London, in a half-Muggle, half-Wizarding community. He had moved out of Zabini Manor the day after his trial, putting it on the market as he went. The house and everything in it had been auctioned off in an estate sale and Blaise had never looked back. He had insisted there were too many unfortunate memories associated with his pureblood extremist mother and father, who he had not seen since they were sentenced to life terms in Azkaban alongside Draco's father. He had kept his family fortune, donating large chunks of it to various relief programs and charities for orphans and people injured in the war.

Draco had started to frequent his "bachelor pad" as Blaise referred to it, enjoying the time away from the Manor. He and Blaise and grown much closer after the end of the war, something he was very grateful for. Crabbe and Goyle, the idiots that they were, had been locked up in Azkaban. It wasn't as if Draco had ever really considered them good friends anyways. Zabini had always been one of his closest friends.

"Blaise, I'm in your house," Draco bellowed impatiently. He heard a door slam and then Blaise, dressed only in his underwear, peered around a corner.

"Give me a moment." His voice was proper and controlled but his face was flushed. Draco nodded and sat down at the marble countered bar in Blaise's kitchen. The entire house was very Slytherin. Dark countertops, dark cabinets and dark paint accented by gothic furniture and black accents. Draco quite liked Blaise's house.

After a few moments Blaise appeared around the corner with a scantily clad Angelica on his arm. She appeared to be wearing his shirt and a pair of his boxers. Draco averted his eyes quickly to Blaise who was staring at Angelica with a look of pure adoration. Draco nearly vomited from the display.

"I didn't realize I was imposing," Draco said awkwardly. "You usually don't have company." Blaise waved his hand.

"No problem. I probably should have been awake. _We_ probably should have been awake." Blaise looked pointedly at Angelica and then chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist and squeezing her with affection. Angelica giggled daintily and turned to Draco.

"Good morning Master Malfoy." Draco scowled.

"Please, call me Draco," he replied. Angelica nodded and stood on tiptoe to kiss Blaise's dark cheek. Draco surreptitiously rolled his eyes.

"I'll see you later, darling," Blaise said, hugging her quickly. Angelica waved quickly to Draco before she dropped Blaise's arm and snapped out of the apartment.

Blaise looked to Draco and scratched his shoulder.

"Well you two got cozy quickly," Draco noted blithely. Blaise sneered faintly at him before walking over to his fridge with a yawn.

"You're jealous, Malfoy. Want breakfast?" Draco glowered.

"I'm not jealous, _Zabini_. And no, I ate at the Manor. But a glass of water would be nice. And please put a shirt on." Blaise pulled a glass out of his cupboard and filled it from the refrigerator. He set it before Draco, ignoring the blonde's request to get dressed. Draco rolled his eyes more perceptibly. Blaise ignored him.

"Suit yourself. If you're not jealous then what are you?" Blaise pulled out a carton of eggs and threw them haphazardly onto the counter before pulling his wand of nowhere and summoning a pan onto the stove.

"Disgusted," Draco's voice was teasing and Blaise froze.

"Did Draco Malfoy just speak humorously? Be still my heart." Draco huffed but said nothing.

"Did Granger finally agree to go out with you? Or did you have to drag her to dinner?" Blaise began the process of making scrambled eggs the Muggle way. He had become quite fond of Muggle cooking since the war, and made every excuse to cook things on the stove or in the microwave whenever he could. At first Draco had been slightly mortified with his friend's fascination with Muggle contraptions, but now it hardly fazed Draco.

"She came quietly, I assure you." Blaise turned around and winked at Draco. He flushed and shook his head.

"No, not like that," he stumbled over his words and then took a large drink of his water, feeling very uncomfortable.

"Oh so she's a screamer?" Draco spat the water out of his mouth with comical force and Blaise roared with laughter, doubling over on himself.

"I didn't sleep with her, Blaise!" Draco wiped his mouth and pulled out his wand, using a charm to clean up the water he had projected across the counter.

Blaise's laughing stopped short and he looked at Draco incredulously.

"You didn't sleep with her? Draco Malfoy who's shagged nearly every girl in Slytherin house just by looking at her didn't sleep with Gryffindor's Golden Girl?" Draco frowned.

"Don't be crude, Blaise. And I never slept with Millicent. I wouldn't stoop so low." Blaise nodded seriously.

"True, very true. But still, you didn't shag Granger?" the humor had returned to Blaise's voice.

"No, and I don't intend to for a while. I'm not trying to torture the girl." Blaise rolled is eyes.

"From what I've heard off of Pansy, you're no torture in bed." Draco shuddered as his friend offered an amusing wink. The conversation was quickly growing uncomfortable.

"That's the last thing I ever wanted to hear from you, Zabini." Blaise shrugged and stirred his eggs.

"I speak the truth." Draco rolled his eyes.

"So when do you plan on getting Granger in the sack?" the dark skinned wizard inquired, summoning a plate from his cupboards.

"Whenever I bloody well please, thank you. I see you and Angelica didn't wait long," Draco huffed, trying to steer the conversation away from him and his fiancée. Blaise raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Who said we weren't before all this?" Draco glared.

"You mean you were? You were shagging her and you didn't tell me?" Blaise nodded solemnly and scooped his eggs out with his spatula, reaching for a fork as he finished.

"Yup."

"Why the hell didn't you say?" Blaise's gaze turned intent and serious.

"Because how would you have reacted if I had told you I was sleeping with a Muggle?" Draco didn't respond. Blaise was right. He wouldn't have taken the news well.

"I digress," he eventually said. Blaise nodded and leaned against the counter as he shoveled eggs at a nauseating pace into his mouth.

"I bet you Granger's a virgin," Blaise spoke suddenly around a full mouth, dropping his fork. Draco frowned. Hermione's sex life had never once entered his mind until that moment.

"What makes you say that, Zabini?" Malfoy asked defensively. Discussing his fiancée's purity status wasn't something he really wanted to do.

"Well she hasn't dated anyone. Ever." Draco scowled. It was true as far as he knew.

"Does it really matter? It's not like she'll be the first virgin I've slept with." Blaise shrugged and winked.

"But she'll be the first virgin Muggle, and trust me when I say that those Muggles are loads of fun in bed." Draco coughed and nearly spat his water again. He looked away in mock disgust as Blaise flicked an egg at him.

"Watch it! You can't afford to dirty me!" Draco shot arrogantly. He noted how his voice now had an undertone of amusmenet to it. He wasn't quite used to that.

"That's what you think," Blaise huffed. Draco scowled.

"So, uh, why are you here?" Blaise asked as he straightened up and cast a quick incantation, setting his dishes to clean themselves.

"Mother forced me to leave. Hermione's coming over for tea and apparently I'm not allowed to be there." Blaise laughed.

"Fine by me. What do you want to do then?" Draco shrugged and looked about, eyes floating to Blaise's television. He and Blaise had watched sports on it several times and Draco had been slightly amazed and mystified by how the thing worked. None of the sports had been as exciting as Quidditch, obviously, but it was more the experience of watching it broadcasted on a Muggle contraption that had enthralled Draco.

Blaise noticed his gaze and sighed.

"There should be some sort of sport on today. Give me a minute to get dressed and we'll watch something."

"I still don't get why I had to leave the Manor," Draco sulked. He had woken up that morning wanting desperately to see Hermione again.

"I doubt you'd want to be there," Blaise said as he walked towards his bedroom to grab a shirt. Draco nodded in agreement.

"You're right," he said casually, "I could care less what the color scheme is."

* * *

"What about gold and cream?" Narcissa's pen was poised over the notepad she held. Hermione looked at the color samples offered before her. This must have been the twentieth color combination that had been suggested and she still hadn't found anything she liked. They had been at it for nearly an hour now and their tea had gone cold several times, but there was no progress being made.

Hermione had arrived at the Manor at a quarter after ten and had been led onto the patio by a house elf that had introduced itself as Winky. Winky, to Hermione's great surprise, was wearing a very fine dress.

"Mistress Malfoy pays me to be here!" she had exclaimed at Hermione's questioning. "Winky nearly can't stand it but Mistress and Master insist!"

"How long have you served the Malfoys, Winky?" Winky jumped a bit and grinned.

"Ever since Master Malfoy was just a small little wizard miss! Winky lives to serve her family!" Hermione laughed at the elf's pride.

"That's very sweet of you, Winky."

"Oh Misses Hermione, you are too kind to old Winky!"

When they reached the patio, Narcissa had rose to greet her.

"Miss Granger. It's lovely to see you again." Hermione had blushed.

"Please, Mrs. Malfoy. Call me Hermione." Narcissa had smiled and pulled Hermione into a tight embrace, an act that had surprised her greatly. She knew Narcissa was nothing like her husband, who was cruel and calculating, but she still hadn't expected physical affection.

"Thank you, Hermione. Please do call me Narcissa." Hermione had agreed and they had sat down, followed immediately by Winky bringing out a full tea service. Narcissa watched the elf leave fondly.

"How long have your elves been free, if you don't mind me asking?" Hermione had inquired after Winky left.

"Oh immediately after Lucius' imprisonment. I've never liked the way he treated those poor creatures. It humors me how they can hardly stand to be paid, but I insist. I wouldn't feel right if I didn't." Her voice had been kind and caring.

"I think it's very generous and kind of you," Hermione had offered, taking a sip of her tea. It was delicious.

"Oh my. The ring looks wonderful on you." Narcissa held out her hand and Hermione blushed, presenting her left hand to Narcissa.

"Thank you. I understand it was your mother's?" Narcissa nodded fondly and turned Hermione's hand, watching the diamonds catch the light.

"Yes it was. But it looks so much better on you." Hermione smiled.

"Thank you. I promise I'll take good care of it." Narcissa grinned and patted Hermione's hand.

"I have no doubt. Now, shall we discuss the wedding? I thought we could start with a few old Malfoy traditions." Hermione resisted the urge to shrug. It would have felt out of place.

"What sort of traditions?" Narcissa smiled.

"It's a custom to have weddings held here at the Manor. I wanted to see if you were comfortable with that," she had added quickly, gauging Hermione's reaction.

The feeling of Bellatrix standing over her flashed quickly through Hermione's head, but she shoved it aside, reminding herself that it was in the past and things were drastically different.

"I think," Hermione said confidently, "That would be wonderful." Hermione had almost felt the glee radiating off Narcissa.

"That's fantastic. We should be able to hold them in the gardens. They're beautiful this time of year. And I was also thinking the sooner the better, don't you agree?" Hermione looked around at the extensive gardens the Manor had. They were indeed gorgeous. Dozens of different types of flowers were blooming in immaculately groomed flowerbeds, the trees were green and the grass was lush and manicured. It would be a stunning backdrop for a wedding.

"I agree. Your grounds are very striking, Narcissa." Draco's mother had smiled.

"I take pride in my gardening. It's what I do to keep busy," she said, looking proudly over the yard. Hermione staggered.

"You do all of this?" the older witch had nodded with pride.

"Shall we discuss colors?"

So now Hermione was still in the midst of a color discussion with Draco's mother, whom she had started to grow fond of. She was a serious woman with a good heart and a streak of humor.

"I'm not sure," Hermione had muttered, holding the cream to her skin. Narcissa studied the combination and frowned, flicking her wand. The palette vanished. Hermione studied the grounds, picking at colors. Many of them were wild, vibrant and bright, but she didn't want that. She wanted something more muted that still stood out. She frowned.

"Sage," she muttered aloud, looking to Narcissa. Narcissa frowned and whisked out a sage green palette. Hermione looked at it and smiled.

"Lavender?" Narcissa suggested, pulling out a gorgeous pale lavender swatch. Narcissa held the two colors up together and then looked to Hermione for approval.

"Yes. I think that's lovely. What do you think?" Narcissa smiled.

"I couldn't agree more, dear. The floral arrangements will be amazing." Hermione smiled and Narcissa laughed quietly.

"You've made Draco quite happy in the last week. The change is immense," she said suddenly, setting down the swatches. Hermione blushed.

"Are you sure? Because I'm pretty certain I annoyed him." Narcissa laughed and patted Hermione's hand.

"Oh I'm sure you did. That's not a challenge, Hermione." The younger girl smiled and nodded knowingly.

"But," Narcissa continued, "I've noticed changes in him. They way he talks, for example. It's much lighter. And he smiles more. I haven't seen him smile this much since he was a boy." Narcissa looked out to her gardens vaguely, as if she was reliving Draco's childhood.

"I'm glad that I've helped." Narcissa looked to her.

"I've always been terribly fond of you, Hermione. And I'd like to apologize for the past now. I hope you'll forgive us." Hermione looked earnestly into Narcissa's pale blue eyes.

"You've been forgiven for quite some time. Truly you have." Narcissa smiled with misty eyes at the young Muggle born.

"I'm very glad that Draco chose you, child." Hermione paused.

"So am I, Narcissa." The matronly woman smiled and batted her eyes, trying to clear away the tears of happiness that had seemingly collected.

"Alright, let's get back to this. Shall we talk about your bridal party?" Hermione nodded, accepting the cup of tea Winky had appeared with. Narcissa turned a page in her notebook.

"Who do you want to be your maid of honor?"

"Ginny Potter." Her answer was instantaneous and slightly forceful. Narcissa smiled and wrote down Ginny's name.

"I had figured. Bridesmaids?" Hermione pondered for a moment.

"Cho Weasley and Luna Longbottom." They were her only two good female friends.

"What about your guest list? The Weasleys I presume?" Hermione was glad that she hadn't heard a tinge of distaste in Narcissa's tone.

"Yes, the Weasleys. Luna's father and Cho's family." Hermione was slowly beginning to realize just how small her group of friends and family was.

"And your parents?" Hermione stiffened.

"No," she said quietly. Narcissa looked up from the notepad questioningly.

"No, my parents are dead." Shortly after the end of the war, Hermione had told the Ministry of the memory charm she had placed on her parents. They had made it a top priority to track them down and revert the charm, something they had assured Hermione was quite possible. When the Ministry officials had arrived in Australia, they had discovered Hermione's parents had both been killed in a car accident less than a week before the end of the war. Hermione preferred not to talk of her parents frequently.

"I had no idea. I'm so sorry, Hermione." Hermione quickly wiped a tear away from her eye and nodded.

"Thank you. It's alright, Narcissa," Hermione assured. She paused and then added, "I'd like for Harry and Ron to give me away if that's alright." Narcissa smiled brightly and wrote it down. It had always been Hermione's ambition to have her two closest friends take the job her father would be unable to fulfill, and they had both assured her they were more than happy to do it for her.

"Now, how many Weasleys are there?" Hermione laughed and began listing.

"Oh my. Well let's see. There's Bill and Fleur. Then there's Charlie, but I'm not sure if he can come. He's still in Romania I believe. Percy, Fred and George-," Hermione stopped, her throat catching.

"George, I mean. Just George." Narcissa said nothing, looking down at her paper in silence. She knew of the death of the Weasley twin. It was one of the casualties that hurt her the most.

"Then of course Ron and Ginny. Molly and Arthur."

The planning went on for another hour or so. Hermione felt as if everything was going in a whirlwind. Narcissa wanted the wedding to happen in less than a month, as she saw no point in waiting. Any longer, she insisted, and the flowers wouldn't look as nice. Hermione had ended up agreeing. There was, after all, no point in delaying the inevitable.

"I feel like my head may explode," Hermione warned as they approached their second solid hour of planning. Narcissa laughed and handed her notebook to Winky, who took it away with a snap of apparation.

"I couldn't agree more. We'll need to get your dress soon though. Would next Sunday work? You could bring Ginny along." Hermione combed through her internal schedule quickly.

"Unless something comes up with work, that should be alright." Narcissa offered another grin.

"So where is it that you work? I can't get any information out of Draco for the life of me." Hermione laughed.

"I'm Head of Intelligence for the Auror department. I work closely with Harry and Ron," she supplied. Her title felt a bit like bragging when she said it aloud.

"Really? Well that's wonderful. What sorts of things do you do?" Their conversation flowed for another hour. She and Narcissa talked about her work and the various public knowledge missions that were going about. It wasn't until nearly two o'clock that they were interrupted.

"Still chatting I see?" Hermione and Narcissa looked up from their discussion about the type of tea they were drinking to see Draco leaning bemusedly in the French doorway.

"Draco, you're not supposed to be here," Narcissa chastised, standing to greet her son. She kissed him on the cheek and then sat back down.

"I apologize, mother. I can only stay with Blaise so long before it starts to get uncomfortable." He winked at Hermione. Her heart skipped a beat.

"What time is it?" Narcissa asked.

"Two. I would have thought you two would have been done by now. You must have planned the entire wedding," he teased his mother. She scowled in a way that was oddly reminiscent of Draco's own glares.

"Everything but your guest list, love." Draco's eyes looked to Hermione and widened at her term of endearment. Narcissa nearly exploded with pride. Hermione blushed scarlet.

"I'll leave you two to talk for a bit. I'll see you next week, darling." Hermione stood to hug Narcissa goodbye. They embraced briefly and Narcissa rested her hand lightly on her son's shoulder as she stepped by him through the doors.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" Draco asked when she left. He gestured out to the gardens and the many paths they held.

"I suppose so." To her surprise Draco offered his arm and she twined hers through it.

"How terrible was it?" he asked as soon as they were out of earshot of the house. Hermione frowned at him.

"It wasn't terrible at all. It was actually quite nice. Be good to your mother, Draco. She's an astonishing person." Draco sighed and looked at Hermione sternly.

"I know, Granger. I was merely teasing." It was true. Draco adored his mother, even if he didn't frequently show it. She was the only person he had in the world.

"Back to last names are we?" Her tone was of slight hurt, but mostly humor.

"I'm not going to fight with you today. I'm in far too good of a mood." He grinned wolfishly at her. Hermione scowled.

"And why is that?" Draco turned them onto a path that led up a hill, away from the main gardens.

"I had a fantastic date last night with an unexpected person. Why else?" Hermione frowned and played along.

"Oh did you now? And whom would this person be?" The path Draco had turned them on led them into a small copse of trees, shielding them from the sight of the house.

"Well they're quite smart." Hermione nodded as Draco turned them again onto a different path, this one leading to a gazebo that was slightly off in the distance.

"I see. A Ravenclaw perhaps?" Draco grimaced.

"As if. We hardly fought," he hinted, enjoying the game they were playing. It was almost as if they were flirting with each other.

"I see. A Hufflepuff no doubt." Draco sighed in annoyance and Hermione asked, "Any other hints?"

"They dressed amazingly." Hermione looked at him and smiled.

"I see. So tell me, what did Zabini order during your date?" Draco stopped walking and turned to her, face flushed.

"I was talking about you, _love_." He repeated her earlier term of endearment with a crooked grin.

"And I was playing along, _dear_," she exaggerated, returning his smirk. Draco put both of his hands on her waist and stepped closer to her.

"And then after this date," he whispered, running his hands up her sides and then switching to her shoulders, moving down her arms, "I proposed to this wonderful girl," he brought his lips to her ear, "And guess what she said." Hermione could hardly breathe. His proximity was something she wasn't used to, and the way his breath tickled the shell of his ear sent shivers down her spine.

"Yes," she breathed. Draco chuckled and pulled away, grabbing her left hand and looking at the ring.

"Yes, that she did." He kissed her ring finger, his left arm wrapping around her waist. Hermione blushed and Draco released her waist and put his hands on the sides of her face, cradling it softly. His eyes were looking into hers intently and Hermione could feel his breath on her skin.

"May I?" his voice was very soft. She responded to his question by tilting her head upwards slightly and parting her lips, waiting.

Just like their kiss before, it was gentle and sweet and Hermione felt her heart flutter and skip, her stomach rolling pleasantly. Draco dropped one had to her back and pulled her tenderly against him. She gasped quietly into his mouth and she could feel his smile against her lips. He pulled away.

"Lucky girl," Hermione said softly. Draco straightened and looked at her.

"I'm glad she feels that way. Because I know that I feel like a very lucky man." And he kissed her again.

* * *

Narcissa watched from her bedroom as they walked arm in arm together through the gardens. She watched the smile that played on Draco's lips and the gleam in his eyes as he looked at Hermione. It didn't take a genius to see that he was falling very quickly for the Muggle-born witch. The pride for her son that Narcissa felt made her heart swell painfully. She was extremely happy to see Draco in such a good state.

"Mistress Malfoy? Can Winky as a question?" Narcissa turned from the window as Draco and Hermione turned out of view of the house and looked caringly at the house elf. She was swaying on her feet with her hands clasped in front of her, craning to see out the window too.

"Of course, Winky." The house elf smiled widely.

"Will Miss 'Mione be here more? Winky very much likes her." Narcissa smiled and looked back out the window again, catching a glimpse of her son leading Hermione to the gazebo.

"Oh, I think she will be Winky."

* * *

**A/N: I'm in the midst of finals week so I'll try to post but don't count on it for another week or so. Review me please! Thanks you lovely beings! 3**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm a horrible person for taking so long to update this. But if you're interested, I passed all of my finals so yay! *dances*  
This chapter is for Brianne, who ships Dramione like me. :D**

* * *

**Chapter 5: A Day Gone Wrong**

Monday morning found Draco sitting in his study with Blaise Zabini, each of them with their own cup of tea. Blaise had shown up at half past nine, hoping to greet Draco with the same wakening that Draco had treated him to, but had been disappointed to find that Draco had been awake for hours by the time he had shown up. He had found Draco Malfoy seated at his large mahogany desk looking over the paperwork for Malfoy Enterprises he had been neglecting for the last week.

After Lucius' incarceration, the family business had become Draco's by default. In all honestly, it had been the last thing he had wanted. He didn't want the task of learning the books and handling the employees. Before his father's imprisonment, he hadn't even known what the business consisted of. Two days after their trials, Narcissa had dragged Draco to a shady corner of Diagon Alley into the offices of Malfoy Enterprises and had left Draco there in the care of Lucius' right-hand man, who had explained to the younger Malfoy the sketchy and illegal dealings the business participated in.

When Draco had left six hours later, he had fired most of the staff, hired someone to interview less shady members of society and began the processes of moving the enterprises into a more suitable neighborhood. Now the business was expanding and pulling in more revenue than it ever had before.

Now running the business was a bit of a hobby for Draco. If he really wanted to, he knew he could hire someone to do the paperwork and accounting for him, but without it the heir of the Malfoys would have nothing to occupy his time… That and the fact that he had a hard time trusting money to anyone but himself, Gringott's and his mother.

"Who in their right mind would wake up before ten?" Blaise teased.

"Someone who has something better to do than lay in bed alone all day." Draco replied, not looking up from the papers he had sprawled over his desk.

"Oh, I'm never alone, Malfoy. Angelica is always there with me, and we only lay in bed half the day. The other half…" Blaise winked and Draco glanced up, throwing his hands over his ears.

"That's your own business, Zabini. I don't want to hear it," he growled. Blaise sighed.

"You're just jealous because Granger won't put out." Draco's hands dropped from his ears and he scowled.

"We've had this discussion, Blaise. Leave it." Blaise stood and clasped his hands firmly together.

"I sincerely apologize for my indiscretions," he said, voice dripping with satire. Draco glowered.

"Sit down. Now what did you need?" Blaise stayed standing and took a drink of his tea.

"There's a new restaurant in Diagon. I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch with me." Draco shook his head.

"No, I have prior engagements." Blaise leaned over the desk and grinned suggestively at him, waggling his eyebrows.

"Engagements? Could they be with a certain bushy haired, incredibly intelligent, smart-mouthed, very sexy Muggleborn?" Draco flushed and stood, squaring off with Blaise.

"She's mine, Zabini." Blaise burst into laughter and shoved Draco backwards. Malfoy clenched his fists, trying to calm himself. He loved Blaise like a brother, but sometimes his comments went too far. He didn't like the way Blaise talked about Granger like she was a piece of meat, and even worse like she was _his_ piece of meat.

"Take a joke, Malfoy," he said good-naturedly. Draco glared.

"My fiancée is no joke, Blaise. How would you feel if I was constantly making crude remarks towards Angelica?"

"Point taken. My apologies." Draco nodded in acceptance.

"But yes," Draco replied, "I do have plans with Granger this afternoon." Blaise shrugged and walked over to the lounge, plopping down and swinging his feet up. Draco sighed and walked over, shoving them off. Blaise frowned.

"No matter. I had another reason for stopping by." Draco sat down across from Blaise and folded his hands in his lap.

"Alright. What for?" Blaise glanced towards the window fleetingly and then back to Draco.

"The sightings of Dolohov and Greyback and the attacks… Do you think…?" Blaise trailed off and looked to Draco. He was silent for a moment, studying his friend's dark face. Blaise's brow was furrowed and his eyes looked darker than normal. Draco pursed his lips. Zabini almost looked afraid.

"I would lie to you if I said no, Blaise. But I'd like to think it's all a lie." Blaise nodded absently and returned his gaze to the window.

"Have you seen your father recently?" Draco looked at him sharply.

"No, Blaise. I haven't since he was put there and I have no desire to." Draco's tone was severe and defensive. Blaise looked at him out of the corners of his eyes and shrugged.

"It was a question, Draco." There was a pause where neither of the boys said anything. Draco studied Blaise's features as he stared out the window blankly. He looked almost pained.

"Why do you ask?" Draco finally ventured.

"I saw my mother yesterday." Draco couldn't help the blatant gasp that escaped his mouth before he snapped it shut.

"Don't be so surprised. Could you leave Narcissa rotting there without seeing her?" Draco pondered that. His mother was strong, but not strong enough to decay away in Azkaban prison.

"No, I couldn't. Did you see your father?" Blaise scoffed and looked at Draco finally.

"No. Not after what he did to me." Draco nodded. Blaise had avoided a life sentence in Azkaban by turning in his parents; something Draco could have never imagined doing, even to his father. The Zabinis had been in hiding for several months and the Aurors had been at a loss with their location. The Ministry had brought Draco in for ruthless questioning several times, but even he hadn't known where Blaise and his parents were. For a while, Draco assumed his best friend was dead until Blaise had shown up outside the Manor, beaten within an inch of his life. They had gone to the Ministry together and Blaise had turned his parents over in exchange for no jail time and a large fine. For quite some time Blaise had been torn up over his betrayal, but seemed to be more or less fine with it now. He had never been as dedicated to Voldemort's cause as the Malfoys had been.

Draco wasn't sure how to respond, so he muttered a quiet, "Understandable." Blaise nodded and looked back out the window, breathing deeply.

"I saw your father in passing." Draco stiffened in his chair but said nothing, fighting the chill that crept up the back of his neck

"He looks like he got ran over by a horde of Hippogriffs," Blaise said, swiveling on the chaise towards the blonde. Draco breathed through his nose, trying to calm the rising anger he felt. Any mention of his father irritated him.

"I don't give a damn what he looks like," Draco muttered, averting his eyes to the floor. "I don't care." Blaise ran a hand through his short hair.

"He asked about you." Draco shot up out of his chair and slammed his fist against the wall, anger surging through him. He didn't want to see or hear of his bloody father.

Blaise was suddenly beside him, pulling him away from the wall and guiding him roughly back into the chair.

"I don't give a damn what my father asked about, Zabini," he growled, suddenly aware of the ache in his hand.

"He just asked how you were, Draco. There's no need to punch a damn wall," Blaise responded with an annoyed sharpness. Draco shot out of the chair again and drove him backwards against the far wall, pinning him there.

"Did you tell him anything about Granger?" Draco shook him slightly.

"No! Draco what has gotten into you?" Realizing how ridiculous he was being, Draco dropped his hands and moved backwards quickly, chagrined by his actions. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"I don't want Granger in the middle of my fight with my father. I'm sorry about the…" Draco gestured to Blaise, who was straightening his clothes. Blaise waved his hand to dismiss him.

"It's fine. No damage was dealt." Blaise sat back down and Draco continued his frown.

"I mean it, Draco. I'm fine." He still said nothing. Blaise exhaled.

"So where are you taking Granger this afternoon? Another French restaurant?" Draco glowered at him.

"No. Wherever she wants." Blaise looked at him curiously.

"You like her, don't you?" Blaise pressed.

"You like Angelica, right?" Draco responded smartly. Blaise ignored his comment.

"I can tell. You wouldn't defend her if you didn't. Draco Malfoy falling for the Mudblood." Blaise's tone was teasing but the word set Draco on edge.

"Don't call her that," he said evenly.

"Fair enough. I apologize again. What time are you going to pick her up?"

"Noon. What time is it?" Blaise looked at his Muggle watch.

"Ten." Draco groaned and stood.

"I have to get ready to leave." Blaise grinned and slung his feet over the chair again. Draco sighed.

"Which means get out of my house, Zabini. Don't you have a witch to fondle?" Draco winked at him and Blaise scowled.

"Let's set some limits. No teasing each other's fiancées." Blaise stuck his hand out and Draco shook it firmly.

"Deal. Now get out." Blaise chuckled.

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving. See you later, Malfoy." Draco waved him off and Blaise jokingly slammed the door behind him.

Draco stood and paced to his desk and then back to the chair, shaking. He had hoped he wouldn't have to hear of his father until Lucius' death. His father infuriated him. The fact that the man could put his wife and son through Hell and back and still be a fanatic for a dying cause made Draco sick.

Draco paused. Yet another change in himself. He no longer hated Muggleborns and now he was glad his father was in prison. All because of Hermione Granger.

With a slight smile, Draco walked out of his office.

* * *

"_Hermione, thank you very much for a lovely Saturday. I greatly enjoyed our discussions and hope to see more of you soon. I thought of a tentative date for the wedding and wanted to see what you thought. I was thinking the last weekend of this month. I understand that that leaves three weeks to finish everything but I have no doubt that we will be able to. Do write me back when you've decided and I'll finalize the invitations. Hoping this finds you well, Narcissa._"

Hermione put the letter down on her desk and stared at the wall, unsure of how to feel.

On one hand, Hermione was beyond terrified to be married to anyone, let alone Draco Malfoy. The idea of commitment to anything other than her job and the expansion of her already sizeable knowledge at the age she was seemed bleak and repressing. As far as Draco Malfoy went, that was an entirely different story. The day of the bidding, she had been absolutely enraged. Now, however, she felt differently. She was definitely irritated, but her foul mood was no longer directed towards Malfoy. It was now collectively directed towards the bloody Marriage Law. Towards Draco, she felt something she had never expected herself to feel towards him. She no longer dreaded to be around him, no longer balked at the idea of having to converse with him, and she was no longer disgusted by Draco's presence. When she used to think about him, which had happened infrequently in the past two years, she had thought of the slimy, greasy, immature, intolerant bastard from her school days. Now when Draco drifted through her mind, which happened far more often than she cared to admit, her thoughts were much warmer. This new Draco was beyond what she had hoped for. His gentle, polite and kind ways were endearing him to her faster than she had imagined.

Draco's attitude change and the effort he was putting forth, and Narcissa's motherly tendencies were the other hand, coupled with the fact that she really didn't have a choice in the matter.

She reread Narcissa's letter and smiled. Narcissa's elegantly scripted note betrayed her tone of excitement. Hermione really was growing fond of Draco's mother.

She decided she would answer Narcissa after lunch. She wanted to run the dates by Draco first. It was, after all, their wedding.

Her stomach growled and she glanced up at her clock. She startled a bit when she saw the time. It was nearly noon. Hurriedly, she sorted her paperwork, which was scattered across her desk, into two piles and then pulled out her purse, taking out a small mirror and checking her reflection. Her hair was unmanageable as usual, but she had given up hope on it years ago.

The mirror clattered to her desk as she dropped it, startled by the roaring of the fireplace. Draco stepped out of it elegantly, brushing himself off with calculated movements. Hermione smiled when he looked at her. He was wearing dark slacks and a black button-down shirt, and looked stunning as usual.

"Hello, Granger. Ready for lunch?" Malfoy's voice was his usual drawling purr.

"I suppose. Where did you want to go?" Draco shrugged, wracking his mind for a place close by to take her.

"I actually have the perfect place. Shall we?" Draco gestured to the door of her office.

"Why don't we just Floo?" she asked, gathering her bag. Draco rolled his eyes.

"I can't very well show you off to your department if we Floo, can I?" Hermione blushed and clamped her mouth shut, unsure of what exactly he wanted to show off. She definitely wasn't brag worthy.

Seeming to read her mind, he reached forward and grabbed her hand, twining his fingers into hers and said, "Believe me, Granger, there is plenty to show off." Although he used her last name, his tone was soft and kind.

"I would assume arguing would be pointless?" Draco nodded and pulled her close to him, dropping her hand and wrapping his arms around her waist. Gently, he pressed his lips against hers. He felt her smile against him. He smiled in return.

"Well, shall we?" he asked as he pulled away.

"Well unless you wanted to stay here…" Hermione blushed, embarrassed by the words that had just tumbled out of her mouth. Draco stiffened and gripped her tighter against him, shifting his hips slightly.

"As much as I would like to accept that offer… It wouldn't be appropriate to accept while we're inside the Ministry. Perhaps another time?" As he spoke, his lowered his lips to her jaw and ghosted them across it and down her neck, stopping at the start of her collarbone. She shivered at the heat his trail made on her chilled skin.

"You're doing a poor job of showing it," Hermione managed to squeak out. Draco grinned against her neck and she shuddered as his tongue flicked out playfully.

"You're doing a poor job of stopping me." After another moment of his lips poised at her throat, he pulled away and retook her hand. Hermione, still flushed, straightened her top self-consciously.

"I expect we'll run into Harry or Ron." Draco groaned in annoyance and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"And you expect me to behave?" Hermione nodded. Draco sighed in mock irritation and they walked out of her office door.

As they rounded the corner into atrium, camera flashes and a mob of reporters screaming questions greeted them. Instinctively Hermione raised her left hand against the sudden brightness. The reporter went mad at her ring and their joined hands. Draco pulled her tightly to him and started to shove his way through the flock. Hermione dropped her hand and tried to shove people out of their way as gently as she could. Draco was less forgiving with his pushing.

"Well well, what do we have here?" Draco and Hermione skidded to a stop as Rita Skeeter, dressed in her usual garish fashion, lunged out in front of them. Hermione moaned in exasperation.

"Oh Rita, just the person I was hoping to avoid," Draco greeted her, offering a hand to shake. Rita looked at it and sniffed in disdain. The other reports had backed away as soon as Skeeter had made her appearance, obviously put off by the idea of having to compete with her.

"How charming to see you to, Master Malfoy. And you, Miss Granger. You're looking flushed and bristled as usual." Hermione stifled a gasp and Draco growled.

"Move, Skeeter," his tone was one of simple disdain, but Rita Skeeter didn't falter or frown. Her smile grew larger as she whipped out her notebook and Quick-Quotes Quill. Hermione flushed brighter and grew a bit more annoyed. That quill and that notebook had caused them all a bit more than their fair share of troubles.

"I hope you don't mind if I ask you a few questions-," Hermione groaned and Draco cut her off.

"Oh, we definitely mind, and-," Rita's Quill asserted itself between Draco's face and Rita's.

"Excellent. So the pressing question that's on everyone's mind, of course, is when is the wedding?" Draco squeezed Hermione tightly against him. She was reaching a boiling point and he seemed to sense the waves of annoyance rolling off her. The last thing that would be prudent to do would be to blow up at Rita Skeeter, but Hermione Granger was well on her way to that point.

"Soon. An official announcement will be posted by the end of this week, I presume. Right, love?" Draco looked down at Hermione and raised one eyebrow, prompting her. Hermione cleared her throat.

"Yes." Her tone was clipped and short. Rita smiled broadly and Hermione watched in aggravation as the Quill scribbled down something that was undoubtedly as far from the truth as possible.

"Splendid," Rita said dryly, "How are you and Mother Malfoy getting along, Miss Granger? Superbly, or is the blood difference making a crack in the foundations?" Draco prickled but Hermione smiled as sweetly as she could at Rita.

"We're getting along wonderfully. Thank you for asking." Her tone was laced with false kindness, nearly dripping with sugar.

"Now Miss Granger, tell me how does Ronald Weasley feel about this? I've heard he isn't _quite_ over your break up, which, if I recall, you initiated?" Draco gripped Hermione tighter as she jolted forward.

"While it is none of your concern," Hermione bit out through clenched teeth, "Ron is fine. He's married. But you would know that, Skeeter. I do recall reading your wonderful article on it." Rita frowned and her Quill dropped a few inches.

"Ah, yes. Thank you," she muttered, clearly thrown off track by Hermione's venomous reply. She shook her mop of curly hair before plastering another horrible smile on and turning to Draco.

"Now Master Malfoy, what do you think of this whole Marriage Law? Do you think it's a step in the right direction, or simply a reversion to medieval times?" Draco pulled his gaze from Hermione and to Rita, smiling at her.

"I think the Ministry is doing what it deems necessary in our world's moment of trouble." His answer was spoken fluently, as if he had been reciting it. Rita nodded and murmured something to her Quill. They both watched as it scratched a line out before standing to attention again.

"Very interesting, Draco. May I call you that?" she paused and Draco nodded stiffly.

"Excellent. Now, another common question for you. Why Miss Granger?" Draco smirked.

"She matches me in intellect. Her sense of humor is spot on. She's beautiful. I couldn't have picked a better person to spend time with." Hermione blushed out of something other than anger. Rita saw her flush.

"How charming. Tell me, Draco, how Miss Parkinson feels about all of this? If my sources were correct, you two were romantically involved previously?" Hermione froze and she felt Draco twitch.

"Your sources were misguided." His voice was as cold as ice, and something about the answer set Hermione on edge.

"Did I hit a nerve? My apologies." Draco honestly doubted she was sorry.

"No troubles. Now if you'll excuse us-," Draco tried to step around Rita again, but she raised a finger.

"One more question for you, Draco. How does your father, Lucius Malfoy, feel about this?" Draco said nothing, but Hermione could feel the tension in his body. His arm was stiff around her waist and he was breathing through his nose. Skeeter seemed to visibly glow at his reaction.

"Hit a nerve again? Tell me, Draco… Does your father even know of your Muggleborn fiancée?" Draco snapped. He brusquely shoved past Rita, his arm still tightly around Hermione, and walked them quickly to the apparation point. Hermione felt the familiar spin of apparation and when she opened her eyes, they were at the gate of Malfoy Manor. Draco was physically shaking, and he paced quickly over to one of the pillars surrounding the wrought iron gate and slammed his fists into it. Hermione jumped and tentatively pulled his arms down.

"Stop it." Hermione's voice cracked as Draco roughly jerked his arm away from her. She stepped back.

"Draco, are you still with Pansy?" Draco looked at her sharply. Hermione put her hands on her hips and stood tall, the stance she took when she was in her defensive mode.

"No." Hermione flushed.

"I honestly don't believe you, Draco." Draco nearly snarled.

"Fine, don't believe me. Get in the Manor. I have business to attend to." Hermione's stomach dropped and she felt tears spring up in her eyes.

"Business? The kind that involve Parkinson and a bed?" Draco took a deep, shaky breath and stepped chest to chest with Hermione. He grabbed her arms tightly and glared down at her. His silvery gray eyes were stormy with anger.

"Business that definitely does not involve you, Granger. Now get in the manor." Pain flitted across her face, and Hermione ripped her arms back.

"No." She tried to maintain and even voice while she blinked back tears. Draco glowered.

"Granger, get inside." She shook her head and stepped back.

"No. You don't own me, Malfoy. I don't care how much you paid for me." Draco opened his mouth and then snapped it shut.

"I was stupid to think that you'd be any different, Malfoy. You're the same as you always have been." Draco's jaw dropped like she had slapped him across the face again. He could have sworn he felt his heart jerk.

"That's not true, Hermione." She nearly stomped her foot in anger.

"Don't call me by my first name, Malfoy! Don't even talk to me!" she was yelling now, red from her chest to her hair.

"I cannot _believe_ I let myself even start to fall for you! Bugger off!" she slapped away his hand as he reached for her, took two steps backwards and apparated, leaving Draco standing alone in front of his house in an eerie, depressing silence.

* * *

Hermione was lucky that she hadn't splinched herself as she apparated. She knew in the back of her mind that apparating away hadn't been smart, but she couldn't stay there and face Narcissa after her fight with Draco.

Her heart was thumping painfully in her chest as she walked numbly up the steps to Grimmauld Place. She didn't even know if Ginny was home, but she hoped she was. She needed a place to collect her thoughts and owl Harry at work. She didn't think there was any way she could go back to work and actually focus and be productive.

"Hermione, what are you… What happened?" Ginny cried as she saw Hermione's tear-stained cheeks.

"Can I come in?" she sniffled. Ginny stepped aside and ushered her in, shutting the door behind them.

"Hermione, what happened?" Ginny demanded again as she sat Hermione down on the couch, pouring her a cup of tea. Hermione's shoulders were shaking and her breath was hitching. She was trying to stop the flow of tears and was only partially successful.

"Draco. We fought," was all she gasped out between heaving sobs.

"About what? What did you two say?" Ginny moved to sit next to Hermione, putting an arm around her and hugging her friend.

"Skeeter was talking to us. Rita Skeeter." Ginny frowned and shook her head. Ginny had yet to meet a single person in the wizarding world who didn't dislike Rita Skeeter. She was a vile, manipulative, repulsive woman.

"And she brought up Pansy Parkinson. She and Draco were involved." Ginny nodded slowly.

"And are they still?" Ginny asked cautiously. She felt Hermione shrug and then heave into another round of quiet sobbing.

"I don't know. He wouldn't give me a straight answer. He apparated us to Malfoy Manor and commanded me to go inside. I told him to leave me alone. I can't believe I even trusted him, Ginny. How could I be so stupid?" Hermione's tears returned with vengeance.

"Breathe, 'Mione. Everything's fine. I'm going owl Harry for you, alright?" Hermione nodded and Ginny stood up, walking quickly up the stairs. Hermione collapsed onto the couch and stared at the ceiling, trying to calm herself down. She sat up and drank her entire cup of tea before pouring herself another. The drink helped calm her nerves considerably.

She felt like an idiot. She felt like an absolute, thickheaded, bloody idiot. She had overreacted and jumped to conclusions. She had known Draco was upset over Skeeter's questioning about her father and Pansy, and Hermione knew she had thrown Draco's feelings aside and acted on her emotions before hearing him out. Granted Draco had been as vague as he could be, but he had been upset.

"I've owled Harry. You're welcome to stay as long as you want, 'Mione. Harry'll be home in a few minutes. He's worried about you," she added as she plopped back down.

"I feel like such an awful person, Gin. I didn't even give him a chance to defend himself." Ginny rubbed Hermione's shoulder comfortingly.

"It's alright, Hermione. You were upset, and understandably so." Hermione sighed.

"What if I've ruined this now? We were setting ourselves up to actually be _happy_ in this relationship and marriage." Ginny shook her head.

"No, Hermione. Don't think that way. I'm sure you'll work it out. You've worked your way out of worse situations." Hermione sniffled and smiled.

They both looked towards the fireplace as Harry stepped out and brushed excess Floo powder off of himself.

"Hello Ginny. Come here, 'Mione." Harry walked over and opened his arms to her and Hermione stood, accepting his hug gratefully.

"Do I need to hex him? I know an amazing witch who can throw an excellent Bat Bogey Hex." Harry winked at Ginny over Hermione's shoulder. Hermione laughed quietly before sitting back down. Harry sat down in the chair beside the couch.

"No. I think this was more my fault, Harry." Harry frowned.

"No matter. I'll still blame Malfoy." Harry gave her a crooked grin and Ginny laughed brightly. Hermione smiled.

"As usual. Some things never change," Ginny teased.

"Where is he?" Harry asked curiously. Hermione shrugged.

"I don't know. He said he had business to take care of." Harry frowned and said nothing.

"I'll owl him when I get back to my flat tonight." Ginny smiled at her.

"You're welcome to stay for dinner. I'm making a casserole. The one mum makes." Hermione smiled. Mrs. Weasley's casserole was one of her favorite meals.

"I'd love to. Thank you both." Harry waved his hand and pushed his hair away from his face.

"Anytime, 'Mione. You're always welcome with us."

* * *

Draco stood in front of the Manor for some time, sorting through his emotions. He was still shaking, but no longer from anger. He was ashamed by how he had acted. He had ordered her around and physically stopped her from leaving, something he had never expected himself to do. He knew he must have hurt her physically—his grip had been tight and he had seen the note of pain on her face. He clenched his fists before rubbing them on his slacks. In less than ten minutes he had ruined something potentially great in his life. Hermione Granger was amazing, and he had just thrown her away.

"_Business? The kind that involve Parkinson and a bed?_" Her hurt tone echoed throughout his head dissonantly. He hadn't even seen Pansy since the bidding, but of course he hadn't said that. He had been defensive and completely blown her question away. Everything would have gone much smoother if he had set aside his pride for two bloody seconds and treated her as an equal and shown that he cared about her, because Draco Malfoy knew he cared about her very much.

Draco straightened himself and smoothed down his rumpled clothes, combing his hair back into place. He hadn't lied; he had business to attend to. Confident that he was calmed enough, he took a deep breath and apparated.

The cold sea air hit him like a wall, and when he cracked his eyes open, the tower that was Azkaban Prison loomed ominously before him. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, but he wouldn't let it show on his face. He couldn't show weakness here, especially in front of his father.

He walked quickly across the long bridge, the misty air dampening his clothes. He pulled out his wand and cast and warming and drying spell before stepping inside the entryway of the prison. A large man looked up at him with recognition.

"Master Malfoy. To what do we owe the pleasure?" He lumbered forward and stuck out a grimy hand. Draco shook it weakly before surreptitiously wiping it on his pants.

"I'm here to see my father. Can that be arranged?" The man nodded and held out his hand, looking pointedly at Draco's wand. Draco unwillingly handed it over. Satisfied, the man pocketed it and motioned for Draco to follow him.

Last he had heard, his father was locked in the maximum-security section of Azkaban in a solitary cell, but since Blaise had seen him in passing he must have been moved to a more accessible location.

"Where are they holding him?" Draco asked the man he was following.

"Oh old Lucius? He's in the medium security now. Good behavior. Helped out the Aurors a bit here and there. Gets to see the waves sometimes." The man chuckled and turned around to look at Draco, humor dancing in his coal-black eyes. Draco offered a meek smile.

He could feel the presence of the Dementors floating around. It was unnaturally cold, even for the location, and Draco felt the depression creeping into him slowly. He couldn't see them, thank Merlin, but they were definitely there.

"He should be in there. Usually sits by the windows," the man said gruffly. Draco nodded his thanks and steeled himself. He had been led to a set of steel double doors that seemed to open into some sort of cafeteria or visiting room. Draco recognized several of the men sitting in the room and even some of the women. They were scattered around, some staring at walls, others playing chess. He didn't make eye contact with any of them. He looked around before he saw him; A shock of long, greasy blond hair facing away from him, sitting in a worn chair, looking out the window at the grey waves.

Draco took a shuddering breath and walked with purpose over. He stopped before he rounded the chair. He could still back out now and walk away. Lucius would probably never know he was there.

"Pardon me," Draco spoke softly. He internally kicked himself for his stupid greeting. Lucius craned his head around and blinked in shock.

"Draco?" his voice was raspy and he looked as if he had aged twenty years. There was grey in the roots of his hair, his face was long, lean and gaunt, there were dark bags under his eyes and the beginning of a scraggly beard. His uniform was torn and dirty. Lucius' nails were long and dirty, his fingers bony.

"Hello, father." Lucius blinked again and stuttered, trying to form words.

"Please, Draco. Sit." He gestured to an equally dirty chair. Draco looked at it scornfully before sitting down slowly, facing Lucius. There was an uncomfortable silence before Lucius spoke again.

"I've… I've been hoping you'd visit me, son." His tone was soft. It sounded like a broken man's mournful speech. Draco's heart beat painfully.

"Have you? I didn't know." He couldn't help the small amount of contempt that weaseled its way into his tone. It had been nearly two years and Draco hadn't received one letter or any form of communication from his father at all.

"I wanted to write. I didn't know if you wanted to hear from me." Draco sighed with exasperation.

"Of course I did. You're my father." His voice cracked at the end and Draco was shocked to feel tears welling up. Lucius wiped under his eyes quickly before emitting trembling sigh.

"I want to apologize to you, Draco. For hurting you in the way I did for so many years. I was blinded by my own stupidity. Please forgive me." Lucius reached across and took his son's hands, looking intently into Draco's eyes.

"Of course, father. I forgave you quite some time ago." Lucius sighed in relief and seemed to visibly relax, retracting his hands back into his own lap.

"I saw Blaise Zabini. He told me about the Marriage Law." Draco braced himself for the next question.

"Who?" It was a simple question, and Draco hoped the answer would be taken as well as possible.

"I'm reluctant to tell you. I'm not sure of how your reaction will be." Lucius nodded slowly.

"You care about the witch." It was not a question. Lucius could tell just by his son's demeanor about the subject that he felt protective of her.

"Yes. Much more than I ever anticipated," Draco said truthfully.

"You've changed greatly, Draco. You look healthier, you seem happier. It's because of this girl, isn't it?" Draco nodded at his father's question. Draco was unnerved by the changes in Lucius. He seemed softer, kinder, more forgiving. He supposed being locked in Azkaban for life would do that to someone.

"You can tell me who she is, Draco. I'm not upset. I'm not disappointed. Muggleborn or half-blood, you care about her." Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. He wasn't expecting that.

"Granger. Hermione Granger. And I don't deserve her. She's bloody amazing," Draco stumbled over his words. Lucius nodded slowly.

"Visiting hours are nearly over," he said softly, returning his gaze to the sea. Draco nodded.

"I'll be leaving then, father. Shall I visit again?" Lucius nodded without looking at him.

"How is your mother?" Lucius asked as Draco stood.

"She's well." Narcissa and Draco rarely broached the subject of Lucius. Draco knew his mother no longer loved his father, and that didn't upset him. She was healthier and happier without him. Draco loved his mother dearly and wanted her to be happy.

"I've made so many mistakes, son." His voice was mournful again.

"You have," Draco acknowledged.

"I love your mother, and I've lost it. Please don't take the same missteps that I have. You're a better man now than I have ever been." Draco choked up, biting back tears again.

"I'll see you soon, father." Lucius nodded, still gazing at the sea.

"I do love you, Draco. And I'm proud of you." Draco said nothing, but set his hand gently on his father's shoulder and squeezed lightly. After a moment he walked away.

The man who had led him to the room was waiting outside it. He handed Draco back his wand as they reached the exit.

Draco walked slowly across the bridge, not caring about the water and the cold. He felt at peace with his father. Now he just needed to make peace with Hermione.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Here you go! Thanks to Starlight-killer for being an awesome beta!**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Beaten and Bloody**

"_Hermione, I'm not really sure how to go about writing this letter. I suppose I should obviously start by apologizing for my conduct yesterday. I'm not really sure what got into me. Alright, that's a lie. I was frustrated and ashamed that Skeeter asked about my father, and I took it out on you. It was inexcusable and I'm mortified I let my anger get ahold of me like that. I'm also sorry I grabbed you; very sorry, in fact, I understand if you don't really want to talk to me at this point; I was a complete arse and I deserve it. I've probably ruined the beginning of something wonderful._"

"_I haven't seen or talked to Pansy since the night before the auction. Yes, we were involved before. Yes, we shagged. No, it was not emotionally involved. Pansy has always been a friend, but if she makes you uncomfortable I can take care of that. You're my main priority now._"

"_The business I vaguely referred to yesterday didn't involve her in any way. I went to visit my father at Azkaban. I felt guilty for having not seen him in two years and thought visiting would bring me closure. I must admit I'm rather surprised with him; he's completely different than he was before. He wasn't disappointed or upset with my choice in wife. He was just indifferent. It was difficult to see him that way though… I remember my father being strong and proud, and now he seems to be a shell of his former self. But before someone can be remade, they have to be broken down. I can't remember where I heard that._"

"_This is far longer than I intended it, and I apologize if I've rambled. I've been doing a lot of apologizing lately. I mean every one of them, though. I hope that I hear from you soon. Preferably before the end of the month._"

"_Yours,_

_Draco_."

Draco sighed and handed the letter to his owl. It nudged at his hand, no doubt begging for another treat. Draco knew the bird wouldn't leave if he didn't comply; he was about as stubborn as his owner.

There was a knock at his office door, and then his mother peered around the corner, looking calm. Unnervingly calm. Draco glanced down at what she held clutched in her hands and paled. It was the Daily Prophet.

"Draco," she said evenly, "Have you seen the Prophet yet?" Draco shook his head robotically. Narcissa extended the paper to him with a flourish. He accepted it with trepidation.

"Malfoy Heir and Golden Girl: Trouble In Paradise?"

"Just yesterday afternoon I, Rita Skeeter, had the pleasure of interview the Wizarding World's no doubt most famous arranged couple. I'm talking, of course, about notorious ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy and his fiancée Hermione Granger, friend of war heroes Harry Potter and Ron Weasley."

"I caught up with the two on their way out of Miss Granger's workplace, and they were willing and eager to divulge some of the most questioned questions we've been asked."

Draco snapped the paper shut and slammed it down on his desk, unwilling to read more. He looked up at his mother and waited for the speech that was undoubtedly on its way.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" His mother's tone was flat and challenging. He swallowed.

"Skeeter exaggerates everything," he answered lamely. Narcissa shook her head.

"Apparently you two left in an 'angry rush'." Narcissa pressed.

"Yes, that's true." Draco didn't like where this was going. He hadn't intended on telling his mother where he had been yesterday, but she was going to end up weaseling it out of him. She always did.

"Where did you go?" Draco allowed his eyes to close briefly, bracing himself for her reaction.

"I don't know where Hermione went." he stalled. Narcissa frowned and cocked her head at him, waiting.

"I went out." Narcissa flicked her wand and send a chair hurtling towards Draco. It stopped beside him and she pointed at it.

"Out where?" she asked as he sat. Draco should be used to this by now; his mother had been using the same routine on him for nineteen years, but he could never defy her. It was really a bit embarrassing.

"I'm reluctant to divulge that information." Her brow creased.

"You can tell me, Draco." she coaxed gently. Draco sighed.

"Were you with Pansy?" she asked sternly. Draco groaned in annoyance.

"For the last bloody time, no. Why does everyone think I'm still with Pansy?" he ranted with frustration.

"The article mentioned-."

"I don't care what the article said. Skeeter is a bloody liar." Silence.

"Where were you?" She was set on getting an answer, and there was no further point in denying her.

"I was seeing father." he said quietly.

"Oh," his mother said hazily, "I see. And how was that?" Draco looked up at her, feeling once again like a young child.

"You aren't mad?" Narcissa shook her head.

"No, I expected that you would go eventually. It was never my intention to separate a boy from his father." Draco scowled.

"I'm hardly a boy anymore. I'm engaged." Narcissa's mouth curled up in a small smile.

"That you are, but you're still my boy," she responded fondly. Draco said nothing, watching her face for any signs of hurt. He could see none.

"I said I'd go back to see him again. He seems changed." Narcissa nodded, sitting across from Draco.

"I would hope he's changed." More silence.

"Granger is mad at me." Narcissa looked at him harshly.

"Because of Pansy, I presume?" Draco nodded his head.

"I owled her before you came in. I may go by her work later today. Or stop by her flat this evening. I lost my temper with her," he admitted shamefully. Narcissa reached forward and clasped Draco's hands.

"Hermione is a forgiving woman. All will be well. I promise you that." She smiled sincerely at her son, wrinkles in the corners of her mouth pulling pleasantly. Draco squeezed his mother's hands, glad for the comfort they provided.

* * *

Draco's owl swooped elegantly through the atrium of the Ministry and glided into Hermione's office, dropping the letter on her desk and then perching itself on the arm of her chair. It nearly scared Hermione half to death. She hadn't been expecting to hear from Draco.

Her hands were shaking as she tore open the seal, and she nearly cried in relief as she read through the letter. He wasn't being rude or hurtful, as she had hesitantly expected. He was apologizing truthfully to her.

"_Draco, I'm sorry too. I overreacted. I hope that we can just move past this now. I read the article in the Prophet… It was far from flattering but nothing condemning at least. If you're not busy, my lunch hour is at noon again. If you've got plans, that's fine. I'll see you soon._" The owl left without a treat, feeling slightly disappointed. He would just have to ask his master for double is normal snack.

* * *

The rest of Hermione's week rolled by smoothly. There was a note on her calendar reminding her that Sunday she would need to buy a wedding dress. It was still slightly surreal to her that in less than a month she would be married. The idea was beginning to bother her less and less.

Draco arrived at her office every day at noon to take her out to lunch. They would walk with his arm around her waist through the Ministry to the appartation point, and spend her lunch hour laughing and talking about trivial things. On Wednesday night, he took her to another expensive restaurant. The press had followed them the entire way there, and Draco and Hermione made a point to touch each other more frequently than normal, trying to rebound from Rita Skeeter's article. It had caused some ripples in society, and the couple wanted to reassure people that they were as good as they could be under the circumstances.

Ginny had been thrilled to be invited to the shopping experience, and had been anxiously counting down the days. Unlike Hermione, Ginny had an aptitude for shopping, and enjoyed it immensely. She was glad Ginny would be along to help her. From the tone of her letters, Narcissa was also anxiously awaiting Sunday. Hermione loved Narcissa; she was so kind and motherly to her, not to mention opinionated and intelligent.

On Sunday morning, Hermione rolled out of bed at nine-thirty. Their appointment was at an undisclosed location at noon, and Hermione and Ginny were supposed to arrive at the Manor at 11:45. As usual, Crookshanks made his presence known all throughout Hermione's morning preparations. He had a habit of settling himself on the bathroom counter while she brushed her teeth and hair. He was getting on in years now; his attitude still remained, but his movements were slower and lazier, and his fur was getting greyer around the edges of his nose and eyes. He purred contentedly as she pet him.

She was nervous. Hermione knew that she had never been particularly skilled in picking out just casual outfits, and now she was shopping for her wedding dress. Her wedding dress for her arranged wedding to Draco Malfoy. The thought still sent little apprehensive shivers up and down her spine.

Another emotion that surprised Hermione was sadness. As a little girl, she had always expected for her mother to be present while she planned her wedding and tried on her dress. The loss of her mother had begun to plague her the last few days.

She pushed the thoughts out of her mind and smiled at herself in the mirror. Hermione was determined to make this day a good day for her. She was going shopping with her best friend and her future mother-in-law. She was still smiling when she Floo'd to Harry and Ginny's.

"Hello Hermione," Harry called cheerfully from his office.

"Hello Harry. Where's Ginny?" Hermione asked, peering around the corner at Harry. He shrugged without looking up from his things.

"Here!" Ginny came bounding down the hallway grinning widely. Hermione could almost feel the excitement radiating off her. It lifted her mood considerably.

"Ready?" Ginny nodded and stepped past Hermione, kissing Harry on the cheek.

"Definitely. I'll be home later, Harry." Harry nodded absently and waved at them.

"Good luck, 'Mione. Love you, Gin. If I'm not here, I'm at work… Filing papers…" He squeezed Ginny's hand briefly and her face lit up further. She turned to Hermione and grinned, grabbing her hand and dragging them to the fireplace.

"I'm so excited!" she exclaimed as she stepped lively from the fireplace, nearly jumping from enthusiasm. Hermione shushed her automatically; even after the remodeling, the Manor still seemed to command a somber silence. Ginny ignored her.

"I've never been here before, and it's absolutely gorgeous." she continued gushing, walking quickly around the sitting room. Hermione nodded.

"It is. Narcissa redid all of it after the war." Ginny nodded, half listening as she examined a few portraits on the wall.

"The wedding will be fantastic here! You're so lucky!" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Ginny, your wedding was gorgeous." Ginny waved her hand and looked quickly over the books, mostly uninterested, and then stared out the window.

"The gardens are _amazing_. You are lucky, Hermione Granger!" Hermione blushed.

"Thank you, Mrs. Potter." Ginny and Hermione swung around to see Narcissa watching the bemusedly from the doorway. Ginny flushed and bounded forward, sticking out her hand to shake. Narcissa took it lightly.

"Welcome to the Manor. Hello, Hermione." Hermione smiled and stepped forward to greet her. Narcissa hugged Hermione tightly and then held her out at arm's length.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in ages, child." Hermione smiled.

"It's only been a few days," she pointed out lightly. Narcissa smiled.

"All the same, it gets lonely around here." Ginny watched the exchange with a large smile on her face. She had predicted that Narcissa and Hermione would get along wonderfully, and Ginny Potter liked to be right.

"Are we ready to go? Our appointment is in a few minutes." Ginny nodded enthusiastically.

"Where are we going?" Hermione questioned. Narcissa hadn't let Hermione in on any of the details. After the initial day of planning, Narcissa had taken everything away. She insisted on it, and Hermione let her have full reign. Wedding planning didn't strike her fancy.

"It's still a surprise, dear." Hermione smiled. She had been expecting that.

"Do I get to know?" Ginny asked, stepping closer to Draco's mother and smiling. Narcissa leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Ginny squeaked in excitement.

"It's probably a good thing you aren't telling her," she laughed.

They apparated side-along onto the sidewalk of a place Hermione had never seen before. It was like Diagon Alley—Pleasantly crowded with shops and buildings that seemed to twist upwards towards the sky like withered fingers or the branches of trees. The buildings were trimmed with gold, and many were purple or blue. The shop fronts had large glass windows and awnings. The entire area thrived with the feeling of magic. Wizards bustled up and down the streets, dressed in traditional deep purple and velvet wizarding robes and Muggle clothes.

"Where are we?" Hermione's voice was filled with wonder. Ginny was staring wide-eyed at the buildings and people.

"Wizarding Paris." Narcissa replied with an excited smile. Hermione gaped.

"This is bloody amazing! Sorry!" Ginny clapped her hand over her mouth, blushing. Narcissa shook her head, but she was silently laughing.

"Come on. We're expected." Ginny and Hermione linked arms and followed Narcissa as she weaved through the throng of foreign wizards. Hermione, who only knew a little French, was able to pick out some words and phrases, and she explained some of it to Ginny as they walked.

After a few minutes of walking, Narcissa directed them to a white stone building. Marble pillars surrounded the door, which was made of what looked like dark mahogany. It looked to be modeled after a Greek temple. The sign above the door was in French, but in small letters beneath it was the English translation.

"Bastien Bridal Designs?" Narcissa nodded and held open the door, ushering Hermione and Ginny in. The inside of the store was very tasteful. There were rows after rows of white and cream gowns. Towards the back, there were racks of what Hermione assumed to be bridesmaids gowns.

"Narcissa, my dear! You look _fabulous_!" Hermione wheeled around to see a tall, lean wizard swaggering towards them. He was dressed in an immaculately cut suit. His shoes seemed to gleam while he walked, and his watch chain flashed in the light. His hair, which was a deep, chestnut brown, was smoothed back with gel in a rockabilly style. His eyebrows, which arched sharply. He smelled of warm brown sugar and musk.

"Bastien, dear! I'm so excited to see you again!" Bastien reached forward and clasped Narcissa's face in his hands, kissing both of her cheeks excitedly.

"How are you doing, lovely? I haven't seen you in _years_! When Marcia told me you had made an appointment I knew I _had_ to be here! Are you tying the knot again, dear?" Narcissa clasped Bastien's hands and shook her head, chuckling.

"I'm afraid not, but my son is. This is his fiancée, Hermione Granger." Narcissa gestured to Hermione and she stepped forward. Bastien leaned back on one leg and put a hand on his hip, looking at Hermione studiously. She glanced down under his scrutiny.

"Well he's a good picker. She's gorgeous. Come here, darling!" Bastien grabbed Hermione's shoulders and straightened her up, looking again at her.

"She is. This is the maid of honor, Ginny Potter." Bastien gasped and winked at Ginny.

"Harry Potter's wife and best friend. Well tickle me pink; this is _fantastic_!" Ginny reddened and laughed.

"At your service! Your store is beautiful!" Bastien waved a hand and fanned his face.

"Oh, stop it you. I'm so excited to work with you three!" Hermione smiled at him, still trying to take in the sheer amount of dresses. There must have been twenty racks on each side of the room, at least ten in the back, not to mention the storage room she would wager existed. There was no way she would be able to find a dress.

Bastien looked at her awed expression and laughed.

"Oh dear, don't you worry about this! I'm not the most sought-after gown designer in the wizarding world for nothing!" Although he spoke flamboyantly, his tone carried a message of reassurance, and the uncomfortable feeling that she had been feeling seeped away, and excitement replaced it.

She was here, with her best friend and Narcissa Malfoy; to pick out her wedding gown for her marriage to a man she was unquestionably falling quickly for. She had hundreds and hundreds of choices to choose from. The possibilities were endless, and her future seemed to be growing brighter.

* * *

Draco had intended for Sunday to be his day off. The day where he lounged around on the sofa and read books, or the day that he spent at Blaise's, knocking back bottles of Firewhiskey and watching Muggle television.

His Sunday had, in fact, started out as such. When he finally managed to pull himself out of bed, considerably later than normal, he awoke to find his mother gone. He had been hoping to catch a glimpse of Granger before his mother whisked her away, but no such luck.

To make up for the disappoint of missing his fiancée, Draco allowed himself the indulgence of eating half of a chocolate cake before Winky finally found him and forced him out of the kitchen. He felt like a child; stealing cake from the kitchen and being chastised for it. He really didn't care. Draco Malfoy was in a good mood, and nothing was going to change that.

At around two in the afternoon, Draco Malfoy was pulled from his reading to his Floo roaring to life. He watched, waiting for someone to step out, but nothing happened. Moments later, a shout drifted from it. Draco raised an eyebrow, watching the fireplace carefully, wand grasped tightly in his right hand, book discarded to the floor.

"_Get away from the Floo, Pansy_." The voice was deep, rough and violent sounding. Draco clenched his hand uncomfortably. He didn't like the tone.

"_Don't touch me. Get off me!_" There was a snapping sound and Pansy's voice cried out in pain. Draco leapt off the couch and crouched next to the hearth, trying to decide if he should intervene. She had meant to call him on purpose. Did that mean she wanted help?

"_You're my wife, Parkinson. I can do whatever I want to you_." There was the sound of a shuffle and Pansy cried out again.

"_Just because I'm your wife doesn't mean you have the right to-Stop! Let go!_" There was another cracking noise and he heard Pansy faintly whimper. It sounded like she was being pulled away from the Floo. Draco lurched to his feet.

"_I paid a pretty penny for you. I can do whatever I damn well please._" The voice was barely audible. Draco didn't like where this was going. Acting on a whim, he lurched upwards and dropped a handful into the flames. They turned green and he stepped in quickly. Moments later, he jumped out into Pansy's sitting room. It had been a while since he had been there. Everything looked different now. All of Pansy's feminine touches were completely gone. Where her dainty chairs and tables were now sat bulky, leather-covered chairs and thick wooden tables. The room was dim, and the entire house smelled unpleasant. Draco nearly balked. He stood quietly, waiting for a sound.

There was a thump and a yelp from where Pansy's bedroom was, and he crept slowly down the hall.

"Get your hands off me! Please! No!" Pansy was nearly whimpering, and there was another thump followed by a grunt. Draco poised outside the door, wand gripped tightly in his hand, spell on his lips.

Swiftly he pushed it open and stepped inside. He stifled a gasp.

Pansy Parkinson was in very bad shape. From what he could see of her, her cheekbones were bruised and cut, she had a fresh black eye and a recently faded one, her hair was greasy and tangled. Her arms were covered in handprints, and from her ripped open shirt he could see bruises down her chest and stomach. A very large, very unhygienic man obscured the rest of her body. Draco's stomach flipped. So this was the man that had chosen Pansy Parkinson.

Pansy was shoving at him wildly, muttering small exclamations as he struggled with his shirt. She locked eyes with Draco and relief flooded her face. Draco raised his wand steadily.

"_Stupefy_." The man flew off Pansy and landed on the floor to the right of her bed. She looked at him with hatred before she looked again to Draco. As soon as they locked eyes she burst into tears and flew across the room at him, hugging him tightly.

"Get me out, get me out, get me out." she cried, gripping Draco tightly. Draco, still in a small amount of shock at what he had just walked into, nodded stiffly and led her to the fireplace.

"You go first. There's no one at the Manor." Pansy sniffled and nodded, gingerly brushing her hair out of her face.

"You'll need clothes. Is there anything I can grab you?" Draco asked gently, grabbing a handful of powder for Pansy.

"There's a suitcase in my closet. It's packed. Just bring it. And please don't take long, Draco. I can't be alone." Draco nodded solemnly and threw the dust into the fireplace, muttering the name of his home and gently pushing Pansy through.

He cautiously walked back down the hallway, listening for any movement. When he heard none, he slipped silently into the bedroom and walked into the closet. He spotted the suitcase on the floor and grabbed it.

"Where's my wife?" Draco spun around and drew his wand, facing the source of the words. The man had woken up and was now standing in front of Draco, blocking him into the small closet. He was cornered.

"Out." Draco's icy reply confused him.

"Whaddya mean 'out'? I didn't give her permission to leave." Draco smirked.

"Yes, but I did. I'm Draco Malfoy, by the way." He stuck his left hand out. The man looked at it and then looked back up to Draco, rage showing clearly on his face.

"You took my girl." Draco sneered.

"She's not your girl. Not with the way you treat her. Let me pass." Draco made a move to leave, suitcase handle clutched in his hand. A large fist connected squarely with his jaw, and Draco tasted blood instantly.

"Not till you bring her back. I bought her, I can do whatever I want." Draco was nearly shaking with rage.

"She's a human being, not a house elf. Get the hell out of my way." The man smiled down at Draco teasingly.

"What are you going to do about it?" Draco rolled his eyes, fighting the pain he felt in his jaw.

"This. _Petrificus Totalus_." The man tumbled over into the bedroom. Draco walked forward and looked over him, satisfied with his work.

"You really are stupid, aren't you? No one in their right mind would corner a defensive Malfoy with a wand." Draco spit blood at him, hitting him in the face.

"That's for my mouth." He took a step back and kicked the man in the ribs, hearing the satisfying crunch as one broke. He smiled triumphantly.

"And that's for Pansy. Go to hell." Draco strode quickly from the room, suitcase dragging behind him.

When he stepped back into his office, Pansy was seated on his chair, staring at the floor and shaking. Draco dropped the bag and knelt beside her, reaching out tentatively. She jerked a little and looked up at him.

"Pans, is anything broken?" She shook her head, looking at the bruise that was forming on his jaw.

"We need to get you cleaned off. You'll be staying here." Draco moved to call Winky, but Pansy's hand shot out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back down.

"I should have come to you sooner. I really should have. But he said I couldn't, and I was so afraid. I didn't want to be unconscious again. It hurt so badly and I-," Pansy cut off, wracking with sobs, clutching desperately at Draco.

"Shh, Pansy. It's alright." Draco snapped his fingers and Winky appeared. Her wide grin disappeared instantly and her large eyes welled up with tears.

"Mistress Pansy! Oh my! Whatever happened to you!" Pansy looked at the elf and tried to smile, but she was crying too hard to manage it.

"Winky, bathe her. Get her dressed. Heal as much as you can. I'll be back in no less than an hour. Understand?" Winky nodded fervently and pushed past Draco, grasping Pansy by the hand and using her other to levitate the suitcase.

"Where shall Winky put Miss Pansy?" Draco shrugged, halfway into the Floo network.

"One of the guest bedrooms in the East Wing. With a view. I don't know, Winky, just do what I asked." he snapped. He stepped fully into the fireplace and reemerged in the Ministry lobby. He realized dimly that people were looking at him. He was covered in his own blood and his jaw was bruised, but he didn't care. He trudged into the Auror's office and shoved past the receptionist.

"Potter." He flung the office door open and Harry looked up from the desk in surprise, jumping up when he saw the condition Malfoy was in.

"Malfoy? What happened to you?" Draco took a shaky breath to maintain his calm. He was about to blow up. His childhood friend was bloody and bruised in his Manor, her abusive husband whom he had never seen before paralyzed in her house, his fiancée was shopping for her wedding dress, and he was in the bloody Auror's office covered in his own blood and in some considerable pain.

"Pansy's husband beat her. Badly. He's at her house. Someone needs to take care of that." Draco spoke with barely controlled rage. Harry frowned.

"I'll send a team over… I'll need to send one to see Pansy, as well." Draco waved his hand in exasperation.

"I don't bloody care, Potter! Just do it before he leaves!" Harry nodded.

"I'll send Ron and Neville over to her house. I'll go to Pansy. Where is she?" Harry reached for his parchment and quill.

"Pansy is at the Manor. Safe. Will Longbottom and Weasel be able to handle it?" Harry looked at Draco's jaw and nodded.

"They're good." He finished what he was writing and sent the memo flying off.

"C'mon." Harry muttered, pushing past Draco and walking down the hall. He knocked on a door and then stepped in.

"Ron, Neville. Go to Pansy Parkinson's. There will be a man there. Bring him in and keep him in holding until I get back. If he asks, tell him he's there for questioning. Be careful… He throws quite a punch." Ron stood and walked towards the door, eyes landing on Malfoy.

"Bloody hell. He sure does. Remind to congratulate him later." Ron winked. Draco growled.

"Not the time, Weaselbee. Go do your damn job." Ron waved his hands in mock terror and then motioned for Neville.

"Let's go, Malfoy." Harry walked swiftly to the Floo network and Malfoy followed, now acutely aware of the pain in his jaw.

"Potter, can you please fix this?" Harry stopped and turned around to see Draco gesturing to his jaw. He sighed and flicked his wand. Draco felt a sharp pain and then his jaw was back to normal. He ground his teeth experimentally and then nodded.

"Thank you." Harry smirked at him.

"My pleasure. It's not often I get to wave my wand at a Malfoy."

* * *

Hermione was very close to her wit's end. It had been two hours and she felt like she had tried on most of the store. Even Bastien was starting to look frazzled. His hair was beginning to stick out in weird places, and his suit looked a little less crisp. Narcissa had a crease between her eyebrows that hadn't moved for an hour. The only person who still seemed optimistic was Ginny. She had inhabited Hermione's glass-lined fitting room with her, sitting on the stool in the corner.

"We're gonna get this, 'Mione. You've never failed at a thing in your life." Ginny reassured as she zipped another dress on Hermione. She looked in the mirror. Her hair was twice the size it had been when she arrived and her cheeks were flushed. She was growing tired of stepping in and out of countless dresses. All of them had been absolutely gorgeous, but none of them had felt right.

"I like this one." Hermione looked at the dress. It was absolutely beautiful; fitted from her chest to just below her hips, where it flared out into a long train and front. There was a beige ribbon that tied at the waist, the dress itself was made of silk and lace.

"No. It's not right." Ginny stuck her tongue at Hermione and opened the dressing room door.

"Next up, Bastien my dear!" she sang cheerily. Bastien grinned at her and handed Ginny. His expression was hopeful as Ginny took the bag.

"Alright, strip." Hermione pulled the dress off and handed it carefully back to Ginny. She hung it delicately and then pulled down the zipper of the bag. They both peered inside and instantaneously shook their heads.

"This is awful," Ginny whispered conspiratorially. Hermione stifled her laughed and nodded.

"It's so…" Hermione didn't have the adjectives to describe.

"So… Gaudy?" Ginny supplied. Hermione nodded and looked at her best friend. They both burst into loud laughter before stepping back.

"Is that a no, then?" Bastien called over the stall.

"Oh definitely." Ginny chuckled, handing two dresses over. There was a silence on the other side of the door before Bastien yelped in excitement.

"I've got it! Genius! Give me a moment!" Ginny and Hermione listened as Bastien pattered away from the dressing room. There was a knock at the door and Ginny opened it for Narcissa.

"He seems excited about this one." she supplied. Hermione nodded, running a hand through her hair. Narcissa touched her shoulder comfortingly.

"It took me over five hundred dresses to find mine." Hermione looked up at her.

"Really?" Narcissa nodded, smiling at the memory.

"Yes. It was beautiful. You will find it, I promise you." Ginny nodded enthusiastically and then clapped as Bastien rounded the corner, flourishing another bag.

"This," he said proudly, hanging the bag up on a rack to unzip it, "Is my newest design. It's not even on the market. I think that it will be perfect for you." He pulled the dress out of the bag and flourished it in front of them.

Hermione was entranced. The dress was gorgeous. The sweetheart neckline had light beading down it, which faded down into an A-line skirt made of flowing fabric. The bottom of the dress had more beading on the hem that went all the way down the long train. Bastien smiled at her expression and turned the dress so she could see the back. It was a corseted back, and the ribbons of the corset trailed down the back and joined the skirt. The dress was absolutely gorgeous, and Hermione felt drawn to it.

"Try it on, girl!" He handed the dress to her excitedly and Hermione and Ginny rushed into the fitting room, scrambling to pull the dress on. Hermione's heart was beating frantically in her chest, a flush creeping up her cheeks.

It was perfect in every way. There was no doubt in Hermione's mind that this was the dress.

When she stepped out of the dressing room, she was tearing up. She felt beautiful and important, something Hermione Granger hardly ever felt. Narcissa and Ginny both choked back tears of excitement. A solitary tear dripped down Bastien's cheek.

"It's perfect." Hermione said calmly, looking at herself in the mirror. Ginny and Narcissa nodded together, and Bastien pulled out a silk handkerchief to dry his eyes.

"It's amazing. I'm so excited!" He rushed forward and hugged Hermione tightly. Surprised, Hermione reciprocated the hug.

"We've got to get your bridesmaids dresses picked out." Bastien exclaimed, still sniffling.

When Narcissa, Hermione, and Ginny left that day, they were all glowing. Bastien had taken Hermione and Ginny's measurements and made them promise to bring Cho and Luna back for their fittings within the next few days.

"I think I'm going to head back to my flat." Hermione said. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to collapse onto her sofa and watch a film. Ginny nodded in agreement.

"That's just as well. I'm knackered." Narcissa chuckled. She hugged both of the younger witches goodbye and apparated herself home.

"I'll see you soon, Gin. Thank you for coming with me today. You made it all bearable." Ginny smiled and hugged Hermione tightly.

"You know I love you, 'Mione," she answered back, smiling. "I'll see you soon." She kissed Hermione's cheek and disapparated.

Hermione apparated outside the door of her flat and paused. Something didn't feel right. There was some sort of aura around her apartment that she couldn't quite place, but it wasn't good.

She pulled her wand out and considered apparating to Malfoy Manor to get Draco, but she quickly dismissed the idea.

"Don't be silly, Hermione. Just go in." she spoke aloud to herself. It was eerily silent.

Her door was still locked and there were no signs that anyone had tried to get in. Her wards were all still up. She stepped inside her apartment with her wand up. It was silent, save for a dripping sound. It was unnatural sounding, and there was a metallic smell.

It was blood. The smell was blood. Hermione's stomach rolled and panic started to set in. She forced herself to remain calm.

"_Lumos_." Her wand tip lit up and she flicked on the light switch, peering around. She rounded into the kitchen and froze.

"No…" Her voice was strangled with a sob.

Hanging from her kitchen light by his bloodied tail was Crookshanks. His body was completely hairless and battered. A pool of blood was forming on her table, falling from his body. He was very clearly dead. Hermione took a shaky step forward, trying not to throw up. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Crooks…" she moaned, round the other side of him. When she saw the other side of his beaten body, Hermione let out a sharp scream and fell to the floor in shock.

Cut into the side of Crookshanks was the Dark Mark.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: First of all, thank you again to Starlight-killer, my favorite person on the face of the earth! Second of all, there is a new cover for this book! My favorite tumblr-r was nice enough to make me one! She goes by Protegotardis on tumblr. She's fantastic. Thank you Erica! Also, I'm sorry this chapter was so short. Working on eight! You guys are the best.**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Cleanse**

Hermione's stomach was rolling and her head was swimming. The Dark Mark. Death Eaters. Danger. Her cat. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She doubled over, sobbing, clutching at her waist. Her home, her space, her life had been invaded by this evil again. It was something she had hoped to never experience again.

"It's just a cat, Granger." Hermione looked up and scrambled backwards as Antonin Dolohov sauntered into her kitchen. He grinned at her with teeth that were rotted through, gums black and yellowed. His clothes were tattered and hanging off him in some places.

He walked towards her and leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. Hermione was frozen in fear, unable to move or think. He smelled like rotting food and sickness. Bile rose in her throat.

Dolohov was there, in her flat, touching her. Breathing on her.

"Big, strong Hermione Granger quivering on her floor." he taunted, tracing a finger down the side of her face, nail digging into her skin. She shrank away from his touch. Her wand was in her hand, but she was frozen. She couldn't move. Fear locked her muscles.

"Not so tough without Wonder Boy and Ginger are you, Mudblood?" His lips were at her ear now, and she felt something sharp pressing into her side. It was a knife; she could feel it.

"What do you want?" She hardly realized that she was speaking. Dolohov chuckled darkly in her ear, moving his mouth to her neck.

"To send a message." Dolohov grabbed her arm and yanked her upwards, pulling her to her feet. He grabbed her hair and yanked her neck around, forcing her to look back at her cat.

"This is tame," he spat, "Compared to what we will do to you. Tell your fiancée we said hello." He yanked on her hair and ran the edge of his knife over her neck. She felt her skin part slightly and a warm trickle of blood run down her shirt. She trembled, trying her hardest not to breathe against the blade.

"We'll be in touch, Granger." He laughed and shoved her hard. Hermione stumbled into the table, landing in the pool of blood. She cried out in shock and pain. When she wheeled around, Dolohov was gone. Hermione stood in her kitchen, panicked, trying to calm her racing heart and process what had just happened. She raised a shaking hand to her neck and felt her fingertips flutter against the bleeding wound. It was barely more than a scratch.

She stumbled to her fireplace and sloppily threw a handful of Floo Powder in.

"M-Malfoy M-Manor," she stuttered out. She was shaking from the shock. Hermione nearly fell into the sitting room at the Manor. Instantly someone was grabbing her.

"Hermione, what happened?" It was Harry. He was shaking her gently, gripping her arms tightly. Her world hazed in and out, fuzzing at the corners. Then Draco was there, pulling her out of Harry's grasp and put his hands on her neck, looking at the cut, yelling at her to say what had happened. They sounded like they were talking underwater, hundreds of leagues away from her. She swayed dangerous and fell hard against Draco. He caught her and she felt herself being moved to the couch. She looked over at Pansy, wondering if she was actually there or if she was hallucinating. In the back of her mind she was also wondering why Harry was there.

She couldn't hear anything now; just saw Draco barking orders to Harry, watching Harry step into the Floo network, watching Narcissa follow him.

"Dolohov," Hermione screamed, gripping Draco tightly. "Dolohov was there. Dolohov. It was Dolohov. It was…" The world swayed dangerously for Hermione, and then everything was black.

* * *

"I really hate domestic abuse cases," Harry said quietly. Draco nodded and leaned against the wall. Harry had just finished talking to Pansy, and now he and Draco were in the hallway outside the sitting room.

"This law… Do you think they ever saw something like this happening?" Draco mused aloud. Harry said nothing. He was exhausted and aching to get home to his wife.

"What can you do about Pansy?" Harry shrugged.

"Press domestic violence charges. He'll get locked up. Two years from now they can absolve the marriage. But I wouldn't let her go back there, Malfoy." he finished wearily. Draco nodded.

"She can stay here for a while." Harry frowned.

"I don't know how Hermione would feel about that…" Draco closed his eyes in frustration. He hadn't even been thinking of Hermione.

"I'll talk to her. I'll figure something out." Draco spoke as if he was reassuring himself. He turned and walked back into the room, sitting on the sofa beside Pansy, who was back from her bath. Harry followed him, standing in the corner adjacent to Narcissa. She was pale, wringing her hands and rocking slightly.

"Mother, please sit down." Draco sighed. Narcissa shook her head, silent. Pansy hadn't spoken since Winky had brought her back into the room. She was clean now, and her long black hair looked the way it always had; clean and sleek, hanging straight down her back. Harry shifted his glasses out of the way and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He hadn't even gotten the chance to tell Ginny where he was; she was probably worried. She had a tendency to worry about him when he was gone.

"Mother, please." Draco guided her gently into a chair and held her hands. She stared at him and smiled slightly.

"Poor Pansy." she murmured slightly. Draco nodded and dropped his mother's hands, moving to sit beside Pansy. She leaned against him and trembled slightly.

"You won't have to see him again, Pansy. I promise you that." She nodded slightly against him and then shifted away. Draco hugged her gently and then stood, pacing around the room.

Harry and Draco jumped as the Floo roared to life and Hermione Granger stumbled out. The first thing Draco noticed was her face and neck; she was absolutely covered in blood. It was on her cheek, down the side of her jaw, seeping from a cut in her neck and matted in her hair. She was shaking, hands held in front of her, trembling.

"Hermione, what happened?" Harry raced forward and grabbed her. She tried to fight him off, yelling nonsensically, trying to push her hair off her face and wipe the blood away. He gripped her tighter.

"Granger!" Draco pulled her away from Harry, pulling her against him. He tilted her head back and checked the cut on her neck; it wasn't deep. It hadn't been meant to kill. He pushed her hair back and checked for cuts on her head, but there were none. It wasn't her blood.

"Hermione, love, what happened?" Hermione shook her head and choked out small, sobbing words. She buckled in his arms and fell against him, supported only by Draco's grasp. He pulled her upright and dragged her as gently as he could to the couch.

"Potter, go to her flat. Now! Mother, to the Ministry." he begged. Harry stepped towards the Floo and Hermione jerked up, screaming.

"Dolohov!" She grabbed Draco's shirt with a white knuckled grip, shaking to the point that her teeth were chattering together. "Dolohov was there. Dolohov. It was Dolohov. It was…" Hermione shuddered and collapsed against Draco, unconscious. Draco looked to his mother. She nodded solemnly and stepped into the hearth.

Draco Malfoy resisted the urge to break down. Two of the most important women in his life were battered and bloody on his couch. Antonin Dolohov had been in Granger's home. In his fiancée's home. He was still unsure whose blood she was covered in it. There was too much to be from the small cut on her neck. He felt like his world was starting to crumble around him.

"Whose blood is that?" Pansy asked, eying Hermione with trepidation. Draco shrugged stiffly.

"I have no idea." Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at Hermione's neck, watching as magic knitted together the skin.

"_Rennervate_." His voice was strained. He watched as Hermione's eyes fluttered open and focused on him. She raised a hand and touched his cheek, as if checking to see that he was real.

"Draco." she said slowly, trying to sit. Draco shook his head and gently held her in place. She was slung across his lap, resting on one of his arms. The blood on her head had rubbed off onto his shirt, and he could see the dried blood wrinkling into her skin as she scrunched her forehead up.

"Hermione, love." The relief in his voice was apparent.

"Dolohov was in my flat. He killed Crooks." Her voice was too calm for the statement and she seemed dazed. Draco nodded, pushing her hair back from the blood. He realized dimly that it was cat blood, but that didn't matter. He needed to make sure Hermione was alright.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm so sorry." She nodded, trying to sit up again. Draco let her this time, and she shifted uncomfortably off her lap.

"He killed your cat?" Pansy asked, shocked. Hermione peered around Draco, looking at the other Slytherin curiously, as if she wasn't sure if Pansy was actually there or if she was just imagining her.

"What happened to you?" Hermione's voice was equally shocked. She had barely recognized Pansy Parkinson through the bruising.

"The Marriage Law," she said disdainfully. Hermione nodded.

"Dolohov killed your cat?" she asked again.

"Yes." Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes and she leaned against Draco again.

"What a sick bastard." Hermione nodded and Draco was surprised when Pansy reached across him to hug Hermione. He was equally astonished when Hermione returned the hug.

Both of the girls jumped when Narcissa stepped through the Floo network with Kingsley Shacklebolt and two other Ministry officials in tow. Draco stood and stepped forward, trying his hardest to maintain his calm.

"Kingsley," his voice betrayed his anger, "I need to talk to you." Kingsley nodded and cast a glance to Hermione and Pansy. They both looked at him coldly as Draco led him from the room. The door slammed shut and Draco swung around, pulling out his wand and casting a strong silencing spell on the room. His anger was about to reach a boiling point.

"Do you see," he shouted, "What your damn law has done? What has happened to Pansy and who knows how many other witches?" Kingsley took a step backwards.

"I can't do anything about that, Draco. What's done is done." Draco paced backwards, resisting the urge to swing at the Minister.

"I want Pansy to have a legal separation from that pig. I'll pay whatever I need to." Kingsley opened his mouth to disagree but Draco's glare cut him off.

"I will not take 'no' for an answer, Shacklebolt. This is on your hands." Kingsley fidgeted with his collar.

"What happened to Hermione?" Draco visibly shuddered.

"Dolohov was in her apartment. Potter is there now. I would suggest you stop by." Kingsley gaped.

"Dolohov? As in the Death Eater? He's actually…" Draco sneered at him.

"Yes, Minister. It seems as if you've missed a few important puzzle pieces." Draco opened the door up and gestured icily for Kingsley to enter again.

"We're going to Hermione Granger's flat." he told his companions flatly. With a quick nod to Narcissa, Kingsley and his entourage stepped in. Draco looked to Pansy and Hermione; they were sitting next to each other, talking softly. Hermione's hand was resting on Pansy's, and there were tears in both of their eyes.

"Ladies, I hate to interrupt." Draco started. They looked at him and Hermione's brow creased again.

"Hermione, I think you need a bath. And Pansy, you could do with a meal." Hermione nodded slowly.

"Pansy, I'll have Winky take you down to the kitchens. Hermione, I'll show you to the bathrooms." As if on cue, Winky appeared and gently took Pansy's hands.

"Come along, Miss Pansy! Winky has made your favorite meal!" Pansy gave a genuine smile to Winky and leaned down to kiss the elf on the cheek.

"Thank you, Winky." She looked to Draco and smiled, "And thank you, Draco. Truly." Draco helped her up and kissed her cheek.

"Of course, Pans. Go eat." Narcissa followed Pansy out, leaving Draco and Hermione alone. Draco was unsure what to say.

"Thank you, Draco." Hermione said softly. Draco sat down beside her and put any arm over her shoulder, not caring about the blood that was now completely dried onto the side of her face and her hair. She leaned against him, relaxing into his warmth. She had felt freezing cold up until that moment.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said gently. She shook her head.

"Dolohov… And Greyback, I suppose… They told me to say 'Hello' to you. He meant this as a message." Draco nodded slowly. He had figured as such. The two Death Eaters were capable of far more chaos than they had already caused.

"I won't let them near you again, Granger. I promise you that." Hermione nodded against him and then stood, trying her best to look brave.

"A bath sounds nice." Draco smiled at her and took her hand, leading her down the hallway and up a flight of stairs.

"You can use my bath. It's more comfortable than the spare ones." he explained as she looked around. Draco's wing of the house was sparsely decorated. There were some heirlooms and portraits lining the wall. A few of them scowled down at her as she passed, but said nothing. The walls were a deep green, as she had expected. Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin through and through. She hardly noticed Draco's bedroom as they walked quickly through it, too focused on the open double doors that led into his bathroom. It was about the size of Hermione's bedroom at home. There was a large shower, a vanity with two sinks, cabinets and a large tub situated in the corner.

"Do you, er… Need anything?" Hermione squeezed his hand tighter, her heart racing.

"A towel, please." Draco nodded and dropped her hand, pulling a towel from a cupboard and handing it to her. It was green, with his initials embroidered in silver on them. She raised an eyebrow at him, wincing as the dried blood cracked on her skin.

"I can't help myself," he admitted sheepishly. Hermione smiled at him and then swayed on her feet, waiting for him to leave. He blinked and understood he had to exit for her to get undressed.

"Oh," he said awkwardly, "I'll just… Wait in my room." Hermione nodded and he left. She avoided looking in the mirror as she undressed; she knew she was covered in blood, but she didn't want to see it. The place on her neck where Dolohov's knife had cut was sore, but there was no mark there. She watched as the tub filled with water. Bubbles appeared from nowhere, swirling shades of green and silver. Of course.

Her stomach churned as she stepped in and sat down, the water around her turning rust red from the blood caked on her neck and chest. Fighting down the urge to vomit, she took a deep breath and slipped under the water and scrubbed at her face and hair, trying to get the blood out. She had never wanted to experience the feeling of being covered in blood again. When she sat up, she watched in awe as the bath water fizzled from being a deep red to clean water again. She should have figured the tub would be filled with enchantments.

The bubbles were thick and hung around her neck as she lowered herself up to her chin into the water. She wanted desperately to wash her hair, but her arms felt weak. Her entire body felt tired, and all she wanted to do was just relax.

"Granger," Draco called from outside the door, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Draco." She paused. "You can come in if you want." There was what sounded like a choking cough from outside the door.

"Are you sure?" Hermione rolled her eyes, nearly laughing at the tone of surprise in his voice.

"Yes. I… I need help with my hair." Draco slowed cracked the door open and swallowed. Granger in his bathtub. The blood matted in her hair aside, she looked beautiful. A blush crept up her cheeks and she looked down, eyelashes fanning out.

"How can I be of assistance?" He kneeled down next to the tub and rested his arms on the side. Hermione saw that he had changed out of his bloodied clothes and was wearing a black t-shirt.

"My hair. Could you just help me get the blood out of it?" Draco nodded and stood up, digging through a cupboard until he found some spare shampoo and conditioner that Hermione wouldn't mind. All of his smelled like cologne. Hermione had shifted in the tub; her back was to him and she was looking intently at the wall, trying to fight her persistent blush.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco asked curiously, squirting the shampoo onto his hands and rubbing them together. She sighed.

"I've had Crooks since third year." she said quietly. Draco was silent as he poised his hands above her head, unsure what to do. He had never washed someone's hair before. After a moment of deliberation, he gently started at her scalp, paying attention to the blood by her temple. He felt her relax under his hands.

"I know. Mangy thing." he said lightly. He had always had a soft spot for cats when he was younger. Hermione laughed quietly.

"He was half Kneazle. That's why he was so ugly." Hermione chuckled. Draco smiled to himself, working down her hair. It was longer than it had been in school, and thick. He hadn't expected her to have so much.

"I chose him because no one else wanted him. I could tell he was smart. He _was_ ridiculously intelligent." she trailed off, sniffling. Draco reached for his wand and flicked it over her hair. Tendrils of water rose from the tub and swept their way downward, washing out the shampoo.

"Incredible, like his owner." Draco muttered softly. Hermione looked around at him and smiled.

"Thank you. That feels wonderful, by the way." She nodded to the conditioner, which he was working through his fingers. He grinned.

"Magical fingers, love." Hermione blushed and Draco groaned, embarrassed.

"I didn't mean it like that." Hermione rolled her eyes and shifted back to her previous position. Draco started on the conditioner, rubbing it through her clean hair.

"What happens now, Draco? Dolohov and Greyback want you. They want revenge." Her voice was laced with fear.

"I know. I'm sure Saint Potter and his misfit band of Gryffindors will take care of them for me." Hermione giggled despite her efforts not too. Draco smiled triumphantly.

"Hermione, you do realize you'll be staying here, right?" Hermione looked around quickly.

"No. I'll be moving back into my flat after everything's been cleaned." Draco shook his head firmly and flicked his wand, rinsing the conditioner from her hair.

"Granger, don't even argue this with me. They got to you far too easily in your flat. I won't have anything happen to you." Hermione opened her mouth to argue with him but Draco shook his head.

"No, Hermione. I love you, and you're safest here." They both froze. Draco clamped his mouth shut, surprised with what he had just said. He hadn't even realized he was about to say it. He hadn't even realized he had felt that way. Hermione flushed and looked away from him quickly, unsure what to say.

"I'm sorry." he muttered, standing to leave. Hermione looked up at him in dismay.

"Don't leave, Malfoy. It's fine." He sat back down quickly, leaning against the tub. One of his hands ghosted over Hermione's shoulder, under the line of the bubbles. She didn't move away. Instead, she leaned backwards, resting her wet head on his shoulder. He kissed her cheek.

"Will Pansy be staying here as well?" Draco nodded and waited for any sort of rejection or jealousy. Hermione seemed to read his mind.

"I trust you Draco." And she did. She trusted Draco Malfoy with her life, her future and her heart.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks Starlight-Killer for beta'ing again. Awesome-sauce as usual. Anyways, enjoy.**

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**Chapter 8: Loose Ends**

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Later that day, after Harry had assured that both Pansy and Hermiones' homes were empty and clean, Draco had taken them to their respective houses and helped them gather some belongings. Hermione had resisted the idea of moving in up until they had stepped out of the hearth into her flat. Her kitchen looked the same as it always had; all traces of Crookshanks and his blood had been removed, but Draco could tell Hermione was uncomfortable. She kept glancing towards the kitchen as if she was looking for her cat or Dolohov. When she had stepped into the kitchen to grab something, she had nearly tripped over Crookshanks' full water and food dishes. She looked down at them and cried silently for a moment, realizing that Crookshanks would never be able to finish his meal. Pansy wrapped an arm around Hermione and guided her down the hall, looking pointedly from Draco to the dishes. As Pansy helped Hermione pack her clothes into her old Hogwarts trunk, Draco emptied the food and water dishes, storing them away in a cabinet.

"Anything else?" Pansy asked, straightening up and looking around Hermione's room. It was as she had expected Granger's room to be. There were bookshelves filled with textbooks and novels, and the furniture was homely and nice.

"Yes, one book." Hermione stood from her trunk and gently took down the copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ that Draco had given her. She looked at it fondly for a minute before tucking it safely between two layers of her clothes.

"That? Why that?" Pansy asked as she watched Hermione store the book away.

"Draco gave it to me after our date." Pansy smiled. The way Hermione's face lit up when she talked about Draco was adorable. It was the most unlikely pairing in the world, but it seemed to be working.

"When's your wedding?" Hermione looked up with surprise.

"Three weeks." she said with wonder. Pansy smiled.

"I'm sure Narcissa's planning it?" Hermione laughed quietly and nodded.

"Yes. She's doing a wonderful job with it." Pansy snickered.

"Doesn't surprise me. She loves a good party." Hermione nodded in agreement and she and Pansy lugged her trunk out to the living room.

Hermione's first night in Malfoy Manor had been strange. Harry and Draco had gotten into a shouting match over where Hermione would stay; Harry had insisted that Hermione should come back to Grimmauld Place with him, and Draco had wanted for Hermione to stay there.

"She's my fiancée, Potter! My house is arguably the most protected place in the bloody world!" Draco snapped.

"She's my friend, _Malfoy_! And Dolohov is looking for _you, _not me!"

"I'm bloody well sure he wouldn't mind taking a chunk out of you as well!" Malfoy scowled and threw his hands up.

"He'll have to take more than a chunk of me to get to her!"

Pansy and Hermione had watched the two shout back and forth together. Hermione could tell Pansy thought it was funny. She occasionally snorted to avoid outright laughing. Hermione found it amusing as well. She knew Draco would win the argument, and she could tell Harry was aware of that.

"Granger, tell him you want to stay here." Draco had finally yelled, turning to her quickly. Hermione blushed and looked to Harry. His shoulders were heaving and his hair was disheveled.

"You'd be safer if I were here, Harry." Harry frowned and his shoulders dropped slightly.

"If anything happens," Harry glared at Malfoy, "You're welcome anytime. I mean it, 'Mione." Hermione nodded and Harry pulled her into a tight hug.

"I know, Harry. Go home now. I'm sure Ginny's worried sick." Harry left a few minutes after that with plenty of reassurance from Hermione that staying at the Manor was the safest choice for her.

Draco had insisted that Hermione and Pansy take rooms in the same wing of the house as him so he could easily get to them. Secretly Hermione was grateful to be close to Draco. She felt safer knowing Draco was moments away if something were to happen. Hers and Pansy's rooms were across the hall from each other. The bedroom itself was the twice the size of Hermione's in her flat. The floors were a dark mahogany and the walls were a dark tan color. There was a large bay window that looked out over the front gardens and the pathway to gate. The cushion on the bench was, as expected, green. Her trunk was laid out at the foot of the four-poster bed, made of a lighter mahogany than the floor. The bedspread was ivory colored and inviting. Across from the bed, there was a wall of solid bookshelves and a large desk with a stationary set. There was a door on the wall opposite the window that led to the one of the biggest bathrooms she had ever seen.

After Hermione had sorted her clothes into her wardrobe and set her book up on her desk, she changed quickly into her old sweatpants and one of the sweaters Mrs. Weasley had given her. In the back of her mind she realized it had been a few weeks since she had been to the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley usually had family dinners every Sunday night, but Hermione's life had been so hectic of late. Hermione sat down on her window seat with her chin tucked on her knees and watched the sky grow steadily darker. Her emotions were scattered and confused. She felt the loss of Crookshanks clawing at her heart, and struggled to fight down tears again. She was done crying over things.

There was a knock at her door and she quickly pulled her feet off the cushion as Draco walked in.

"Lovely sweater." he commented dryly, running his fingers through his hair. Hermione tugged at the frayed hem self-consciously. Draco stepped across the room and sat beside her.

"It looks nice on you." Hermione blushed.

"Thank you, you liar." she said as she smacked his arm gently. Draco feigned a pained expression.

"I would never lie to you, Granger." he assured. Hermione nodded and leaned against him with a sigh.

"I came to check on you before I go to bed." Draco wrapped an arm around her protectively.

"I'm fine. For the most part." she answered lamely. Draco shook his head.

"Who's the one lying now?" Draco teased gently. He felt her shrug.

"My cat is dead. It could have been worse." He leaned his head against her hair.

"Very true, Granger. I wanted to talk about what I, er, said in the bathroom." Hermione could almost feel how uncomfortable he felt. Draco Malfoy was not a man who frequently talked about his feelings, and now he had to.

"What about it?" Hermione herself felt a bit uncomfortable. She had been kicking herself since then for not saying anything back to him. She had probably made him feel horrible for even mentioning love.

"I just blurted out that I love you, and I know you didn't take it well. I honestly had no intentions of saying it." Hermione looked at him.

"So you don't?" He frowned.

"Don't what?"

"You don't love me?" Draco flushed and looked away, flustered.

"No, I do. I just didn't know how you felt about it." He paused between words, trying to form the right sentiment.

"Like I said; it's fine. I love you." Relief rushed through her. Telling him had been the right choice.

"Well that makes this entire situation less uncomfortable." he laughed.

"Three weeks until our wedding. It seems surreal." Draco nodded. He had been thinking quite a bit about the wedding. His mother had absolutely everything planned. All she was waiting on was the finalization of the cake and some of the last minute things that couldn't be prepared ahead of time.

"Are you… I mean are you excited?" Hermione nodded.

"I'm not afraid anymore. I'm ready." Hermione stood up and stretched, yawning as she did. Draco smiled and stood.

"Come here, Granger." He pulled her against him, one hand pressed against the small of her back, the other tipping her chin upwards.

"May I?" he breathed against her. Hermione nodded. Draco leaned forward and kissed her goodnight.

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Pansy Parkinson's divorce was a silent matter. Kingsley didn't want other arranged marriages to find out that with enough persuasion (and money), a divorce could be afforded. Shacklebolt insisted that Pansy needed to remain "off the market" for the next two years to avoid drawing attention to their unique situation. She had agreed and signed the papers.

Hermione had been relieved to see Pansy free of her marriage. It had been a week since Draco had moved her into the manor, and she and Pansy had spent a considerable amount of time together. During the day, Draco had been working at the enterprises and with the Aurors, trying to speed up the capturing of Greyback and Dolohov. After their move at Hermiones', the little attacks on villages and grown in scale and moved closer towards the wizarding world. The Ministry, to everyone's shock, cared very little about the attacks. Even with Draco funding the search, hardly anything was being done. The confirmed existence of Dolohov had been kept out of the press, and the only people who knew about it were those directly involved.

On Sunday, a week before her wedding, Hermione took her three bridesmaids back to Bastien's Bridal, with the surprising addition of Pansy Parkinson. Bastien was fantastic as usual; he had Hermione's gown completely finished and ready for her to take home, and the bridesmaids' dresses were nearly done. He had even had an extra prepared in the event that one of the originals would be stained or ripped. It was nearly Pansy's size. Bastien used his wand to quickly hem and tuck in parts of the dresses on all of the girls. At the end, he insisted everyone try on their dresses and line up for him to see. He and Narcissa stood back as Luna and Ginny lined up on Hermione's right side and Pansy and Cho took their places on her left.

Narcissa took one look at them and burst into tears. Hermione felt a little teary eyed herself. She looked at her friends; they all looked beautiful. Ginny had been in charge of picking out the dresses, and she had done an excellent job at it. They were chiffon and sage green—the same color Narcissa and Hermione had picked out, and hung at the knees in front and a little longer in back. There was a tie made of lavender chiffon around the waist that ended in a big bow in the back. Her dress fit her perfectly, and looked just as amazing and right as it had before.

"It's perfect." Narcissa had sniffled as she threw her arms around Bastien. He shushed her and winked at Hermione and the girls. Pansy giggled.

"Thank you, Bastien." He waved a hand at Hermione, tearing up a bit.

"No, thank you." he sniffed and rushed forward to hug Hermione and her wedding party tightly.

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The next Friday hit Hermione like the Hogwarts Express. She shot out of bed and scrambled to her feet, for a split second thinking that it was Sunday and she had completely overslept, but a glance at her calendar assured her that no, it was Friday. Relieved, she collapsed back onto her bed and stared at the wall.

Her bachelorette party was tonight. Ginny and Pansy had been planning it together all week, keeping every detail a secret to her. Hermione had been surprised to see how quickly Ginny and Pansy had gotten along. It had started when Hermione had brought Ginny, Luna, Cho and Pansy to Bastien's for their final fittings. Everyone had hit it off with Pansy, but she and Ginny had gotten along especially well. Hermione suspected it had something to do with Ginny's more mischievous side. She had tried to weasel some sort of hints off Cho, but Ron's wife had blatantly refused.

One detail she had obtained from Pansy was that towards the end of the night, her bachelorette party would merge with Draco's party, which Blaise had been planning for the last week. Hermione had been pleasantly surprised to find out that Draco had included Harry, Ron and Neville in the ranks of his groomsmen. It showed that he was making an effort to include her friends, the people that were important to her.

It was eight in the morning. She had overslept a little bit, but that was no matter. She didn't have any plans until seven that night, when Ginny would come and sweep her away for a night of what Hermione assumed would be full of partying. Ginny had taken her shopping earlier that week for a dress to wear, and they had left the Muggle store with a dress shorter than Hermione would have wanted and heels higher than she preferred, but Ginny had insisted and Hermione hadn't been in the mood to dampen spirits.

She showered quickly and dried her hair with her wand, trying to sleek it back a little bit. It was no use, as usual. She sighed in defeat and brushed her teeth before getting dressed. She pulled on a pair of her comfortable jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. It looked colder out than normal. She hoped it would blow over before Sunday.

Hermione glanced over at her nightstand, where there was a picture of she and her parents. A lump rose up in her throat and she felt her eyes water. Narcissa was doing a wonderful job filling in the spaces her mother should have been, but it still wasn't the same. Hermione drew a shaky breath. She hadn't been to visit her parents' graves in a year.

There was a quiet knock on her door, and she stood up to open it.

"Good morning." Draco said formally, looking at her with concern. Her eyes were red and watery. Hermione smiled and blinked away the moisture there.

"Good morning." She stepped aside and Draco strode in. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans that looked suspiciously Muggle to her, and his shirt was definitely not from any wizarding store she had seen.

"Are you okay?" he asked, putting his hands on either side of her face. Hermione shrugged and her gaze flickered back to the picture again. Draco followed her stare and nodded with understanding.

"I had been wondering about that." he said softly. Hermione nodded and his hands dropped to wrap around her, hugging her against him. Draco hated to see her upset; it made him nervous and worried.

"I… I was thinking about going to visit them. Their graves, I mean," she clarified quickly. She felt Draco nod against her hair.

"I was going to call on my father today, as well. I was wondering if you had any interest in accompanying me, but your visit is far more important than mine." He pulled back and kissed her on the cheek.

"No, I'd love to. I really would." she assured at the look on his face.

"We'll leave after you're done then. I would presume you'd want to go as soon as possible?" Hermione nodded and checked the time; it was a little after ten. She had slept longer than normal.

"Would you like to come with me?" she asked cautiously. Draco's brows furrowed.

"You want me to?" Hermione nodded.

"Only if you're comfortable with it. I know it's a little weird." Draco shook his head and pressed his forehead against hers.

"No. I'd love to meet them." His lips brushed lightly against hers.

In the end they decided to go see Lucius first. Hermione had decided that meeting Draco's father was something she didn't want to do while distressed, something she expected to be after visiting the graves of her parents.

"Am I dressed alright?" Hermione asked before Draco apparated them. He looked down at her and rolled his eyes.

"Hermione, you always look beautiful." She blushed and took his arm.

Hermione had never been to Azkaban Prison before, but it was exactly how she had expected it to be. The sea crashed against the island and blew over the bridge. It was frigid and dark. Draco cast a warming charm and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her quickly across the bridge. The last thing either of them needed was to be sick.

The guard in the lobby was the same one as last time. He looked up as Draco and Hermione walked in.

"Welcome back, Master Malfoy. Is this this wife?" Draco smiled and shook his head, pulling Hermione closer.

"No, not yet. Soon, though. I'm here to introduce her to my father. Can that be arranged?" The man scratched his head and nodded.

"Yeah," he said gruffly, "Just give me your wands." Hermione and Draco handed their wands forward and the guard set them on the desk. Hermione felt naked without her wand. Draco could feel that she was uncomfortable. His hand slipped from her waist and dropped to grab hers, lacing their fingers together and squeezing.

"He's up in his room today." the guard said cheerfully. Draco nodded and they followed up a large set of spiraling stairs. Hermione and Draco were both slightly winded as they finally reached the proper floor. Draco could have sworn he felt the building sway slightly.

"Here he is." the man said, throwing open the door of the cell.

The cell was clean and orderly. There was a cot against one wall and a small chair against the other, in which sat Lucius Malfoy. He was looking out the window, much like how Draco had seen him the first time.

When the door opened, Lucius stood and looked around. Hermione stiffened as his eyes fell on her. He looked even worse than how Draco had described him, but he was still very clearly Lucius Malfoy.

"Hello Draco. Miss Granger." He offered his hand to her and Hermione shook it uncomfortably. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to say anything.

"Well," the guard shuffled, sensing the awkwardness, "You know where to find me." He slammed the cell door shut.

"Hello father." Lucius stood and spun the chair around, gesturing to Hermione.

"Please, sit." She looked at Draco and he nodded slightly, following her over. She sat down and smoothed her jeans down with her hands, trying not to seem too uncomfortable. Draco rested a hand on her shoulder, fingers toying with a strand of her hair.

"Father," he began as Lucius sat on his cot, "I wanted to introduce you to Hermione." Lucius nodded.

"We've met." he said simply. Draco sighed in annoyance.

"I know that. I meant again, seeing as my wedding is in two days." he snapped. Hermione nearly gaped when Lucius smiled a sincere, happy smile.

"I know it is. I've been counting down. I'm very proud of you." he said to Draco, who squeezed Hermione shoulders.

"I know. Thank you." Lucius looked back at Hermione and coughed.

"Are you excited?" he asked uncertainly. Hermione shifted in her seat and nodded.

"Yes. Very. Draco's been absolutely wonderful with my friends and myself. I couldn't have wished for better." She blushed as she finished. Everything she had said had been the complete truth, she just hadn't expected to say it.

"I'm very proud of him for picking such a lovely girl. The difference in him just from when I left to now is amazing, and it's owed to you, Miss Granger." Hermione's blush intensified and Draco squeezed her shoulder affectionately.

"I… Thank you, Mister Malfoy. I'm glad that I've helped so much." Lucius smiled and leaned forward, propping his elbows up on his knees.

"I'm just sorry that I can't be there to see." he said regretfully. Draco stepped away from Hermione and sat down next to his father, uncharacteristically putting an arm around him.

"I'll bring you photographs, and I'm sure it will be in The Prophet." Lucius nodded and Draco retracted his arm, standing again and settling beside his fiancée. It was silent for a moment until Lucius coughed.

"You two should be off," he said slowly, "They'll make you leave soon." Draco nodded and offered his hand to Hermione as she stood. Lucius watched as he held her hand tightly and looked to his son with pride.

"She's wonderful, Draco." he murmured as he hugged his son goodbye.

"Oh, I know." Draco answered proudly.

As they followed the guard back down, the tension wound up in Hermione's shoulders slowly disintegrated. She could tell Draco was pleased with how the meeting had gone, and Hermione herself was quite glad that she had had the opportunity to see Lucius. Seeing that he had changed helped her unease about marrying into the Malfoys.

"You'll have to apparate, love." Draco muttered softly to her as they reached beyond the apparation barriers of the prison. Hermione nodded and breathed deeply, calming herself. She felt Draco's arm tighten around her waist and she set her mind on the cemetery that her parents were resting in. They both felt the pull and twist of apparation before they hit the ground gracefully. Hermione opened her eyes and looked around, making sure no Muggles had seen their instantaneous arrival. The graveyard was completely empty.

Hermione swallowed sharply before walking forward, Draco following slightly beyond. Cemeteries had always made him uncomfortable, and he didn't want Hermione to feel crowded. He could tell that this was going to be hard enough on her without his cemetery phobia.

"Can you give me a moment?" She asked suddenly, stopping short in front of a headstone with two names inscribed in it.

"Of course." Draco took a few steps backwards and then turned around, walking to the path, out of earshot of Hermione. He didn't want to eavesdrop on her.

"Hello mum. Hello dad." Hermione knelt on the ground and brushed some of the dead grass from the marker. She paused, unsure what she was waiting for. There would be no answer, no reassuring response. Just silence and cold marble. The thought sprung tears to her eyes, and she blinked them back furiously.

"I'm sorry that I haven't been around lately." she said slowly, shifting to sit cross-legged, fingers tangling in the grass in front of her. "I've been working so much and… Well I'm engaged now." She could have almost pictured the look on her dad's face. Her father had been exceptionally protective of his daughter. Never smothering, just careful. He would have been suspicious, surprised and happy for his only child. Her mother would be downright excited. She probably would have begun planning immediately.

A smile played on Hermione's lips at the thought of her parents as they had been.

"His name is Draco Malfoy. That boy that was just awful in school." she chuckled. A wind blew through the trees above her, causing her to shiver.

"He's much better now. Amazing, in fact." It was true; Draco had exceeded all the expectations Hermione had held for him.

"I've brought him along today. Or rather, he brought himself along. I think he wanted to meet you, which is nice. It's nice that he cares." Hermione stopped and froze up, sadness suddenly racing through her veins. She was getting married in two days and neither of her parents would be present. Her father wouldn't be able to walk her down the aisle; her mother wouldn't be able to help put her dress on. There would be no photographs of her and her parents, smiling at their daughter's accomplishments. Her children would only have one set of grandparents. They would never get to meet their grandma and grandpa Granger.

She doubled over and sobbed loudly, pulling Draco's attention to her. He wasn't sure if he should approach her or let her work through the emotions alone. His mind was made up by another heart wrenching cry. He paced quickly over to Hermione and sat down beside her, wrapping an arm securely around the crying girl. She leaned into him and cried. It was messy and unattractive, but Draco didn't care. He murmured calmingly in her ear, kissing the where her jaw met her neck, rubbing her shoulder.

"I'm sorry." she eventually spluttered out, wiping her eyes and nose on the back of her hand. Draco shook his head.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Granger." He pulled out a handkerchief with the Malfoy crest embroidered on it and handed it to her.

"I just expected myself to handle this better." she sniffled. Draco kissed her cheek and shook his head sadly.

"There is no 'good' way to handle this, Hermione. You're handling it like anyone else would. Better, in fact. You're so strong, Granger. You've always been strong." Hermione didn't say anything, just stared at the headstone again.

"Your parents would be so pleased with the way you've turned out, Hermione, I promise you that." Hermione sighed heavily and leaned against him, twisting her feet off to the side.

They stayed like that for a while; Draco sitting on his knees with Hermione leaning against him, his arm wrapped protectively around her still trembling shoulders. He occasionally rested his cheek on her head, or kissed her hair.

"They'd like you." she said quietly. The corner of Draco's mouth curled upwards slightly.

"I'm quite likeable." Hermione smacked him weakly, laughing slightly.

"You're also bloody conceited." He nodded reverently.

"I know. It's a trait I hold in high regards." Hermione scowled playfully, using his handkerchief to wipe her eyes again.

"It's a trait I cannot believe I've gotten used to." Draco winked at her.

"I'm irresistible, love. I don't know how you managed to stay away so long." Hermione groaned and leaned backwards, laughing.

"Because to me you're just a slimy, ferrety git." Draco placed a hand over his heart and gasped.

"I do declare, that's the kindest thing you've ever said to me!" His voice was dripping with satire and amusement. Hermione burst into laughter.

"Come on, we should get home. It's our last day together. I've been informed that they'll be keeping us apart until Sunday." Draco nodded with annoyance.

"Yes. The ginger is kidnapping you and making you stay in that dusty hole with her and The Immortal Bastard." Hermione hit him again, laughing at his tone.

"Be nice to Harry. You'd be spending a fair bit more time with your father if it weren't for him." Draco rolled his eyes and nodded.

"You're right. Shall we?" Hermione nodded and he stood, helping her up.

As they walked away, Hermione didn't noticed Draco glancing back and flicking his wand surreptitiously. Brilliant white flowers spread across the ground, twining slightly up the headstone. He smiled to himself and held Hermione closer to him.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I think this chapter is a bit shorter, but too bad. The wedding's in the next chapter so get excited. :P**

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**Chapter 9: Not A Strip Club**

Ginny arrived at the Manor at seven. She was dressed in a brilliant teal cocktail dress, with one strap that slung across her body, wearing incredibly tall silver heels that made Hermione a good three inches shorter than her. She had brought Harry with her. He was dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, and Ginny had someone managed to slightly tame the mop that was his hair. Ron and Cho arrived shortly afterwards with Luna and Neville in tow. Ron and Neville were dressed similarly to Harry, with Ron looking much less happy to be in the presence of Draco and Blaise than Harry and Neville were.

"Cheer up, Weasley," Blaise chuckled, clapping Ron on the back good-naturedly. Ron scowled at him.

"You didn't have to come, you know," Draco pointed out. Ron shrugged and looked to Hermione.

"Someone would have been mad if I hadn't." Hermione nodded curtly at him and smiled, then turned to the girls. Ginny and Pansy were talking quietly; Luna was twirling a strand of hair around her finger and talking to Cho.

"Granger, come here." Draco beckoned her teasingly. Hermione rolled her eyes and walked over to him.

"I'll see you later tonight, darling. Behave." Hermione scowled.

"Don't be stupid tonight, Malfoy." He winked.

"No promises, Granger." Hermione scowled and shook her head. Draco dipped down quickly and kissed her. She heard Ginny and Pansy whistle and Blaise teasingly yelled at them to get a room. Harry turned away and Ron looked slightly ill. Neville coughed into his hand and put an arm around Luna.

"I love you, Granger," Draco whispered in her ear. Hermione blushed and stood on tiptoes to answer.

"I love you, too." Draco grinned and released her.

"I'll see you later." he said. Hermione waved a hand at him.

"You better." With a wink, Draco and the boys were gone. Pansy clapped her hands together.

"Alright, girls. Let the night begin." She held out her hands and everyone grabbed on, apparating away.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had never been out for a "boy's night". Sure, he and the Slytherins had had their wild house parties, but it was mostly innocent. No alcohol, no illegalities… For the most part. But what Blaise Zabini had dragged him into was something beyond his imagination. He stomach turned just thinking about what Hermione would say if she knew where they were.

When they had reached their point of apparation, Draco looked around with confusion.

"We're in an alley," he said blankly. Blaise nodded and then faced the rest of the boys.

"Alright, boys. Here's the deal. What happens at the stag party stays at the stag party. Understood? No ratting Malfoy out to Granger, and we won't tell your wives." Neville visibly swallowed, looking nervous and uncomfortable. Harry chuckled and Ron remained silent, looking anywhere but at Draco and Blaise.

"Blaise, if whatever you have planned involves keeping secrets from Hermione-," Blaise cut him off with an annoyed wave of his hand.

"Relax, Malfoy. No one's getting naked, if that's what you're worried about." Draco nodded curtly. That was, in fact, what Draco had been worried about. He felt like a strip club wasn't something he wanted to explain to his wife-to-be.

"I trust you, Zabini. If you screw me over before I walk down the aisle, I'll kill you." The group burst into laughter and Draco punched at Blaise playfully.

"Understood." Blaise led the party from the alley and around the corner to the front of a club. Draco looked at the line that curved all the way around the building, which was an imposing concrete block. He recognized it, though. It was the poorly named Club Magic, notorious for its alcohol and inappropriate parties. It had been open for a little over two years, and it was popular among all witches and wizards between the ages of eighteen to thirty, according to the demographics. Draco looked back to the line and frowned.

"I refuse to wait in line all night, Blaise," he muttered. Blaise shook his head and sighed.

"You have no faith in me, Draco." As Blaise spoke, he stepped forward and tapped the bouncer on the shoulder. The man did a double take and then shouted in excitement.

"It's Draco Malfoy's bachelor party! Come on in, gentlemen!" Draco saw the line ripple in annoyance but before he could say anything Blaise had dragged him into the club.

The music was loud, the lights were dim, and the seats were red leather. The floor was crowded with bodies swaying to music of questionable lyrics. Scandalously clad witches ground on wizards

"You doing all right, Longbottom?" Draco asked, seeing the paled Neville pull at the collar of his shirt.

"Oh I'm fine," he assured weakly. The group roared with laughter and Blaise threw a fist in the air.

"Let's get wasted!"

* * *

There was a reason that Ginny Potter was Hermione's best friend. She knew Hermione like the back of her hand, and because of that they were not at some wild club. The clubbing scene was definitely not Hermione's most comfortable place. The joint that Ginny and Pansy had chosen for Hermione's party was a club, but there was no pounding music, no grinding girls and no sketchy customers. It was called Eastwick, and Hermione was enjoying her time there. The interior was decorated with browns and blues, and there were floating candles above every table and hovering near the ceiling. There was gentle, upbeat music pulsing through the dividing walls of the private dining rooms, separated from the main dance floor. It was classy and upscale enough for their dresses, but not a complete dive.

At the moment, the five girls were sitting around a circular table, pondering the desert tray that had been set before them. They had already had a three course meal and a frilly drink each, and they couldn't decide if the chocolate confections in front of them looked good or were too much.

"I'm going for it," Ginny announced loudly, reaching forward and grabbing what appeared to be a piece of chocolate cake with strawberries sticking out of it. The girls laughed and followed suit, each of them grabbing a desert.

"Are you ready, Hermione?" Luna asked, looking at the bride-to-be with her signature, dreamy glance. Hermione shrugged slightly.

"Yes and no. This isn't how I wanted my life to be, but Draco's been amazing. Absolutely perfect." Ginny made fake gagging sounds and Pansy rolled her eyes. Cho nodded understandingly, no doubt thinking of Ron.

"So you're in love then?" Pansy teased, laughing lightly. Hermione rolled her eyes at the Slytherin.

"Stuff it, Parkinson." Pansy leaned back in her chair and laughed.

"I'm asking a simple question." Hermione sighed dramatically and turned to Ginny who had slammed her hands down on the table in excitement.

"We need to do gifts!" She exclaimed. Cho clapped her hands together in agreement and before Hermione could protest there were suddenly boxes on the table.

"Gifts?" Hermione asked. Luna and Cho nodded in unison.

"Of course," Pansy responded, "It's tradition."

A box was shoved at Hermione. She could tell it was from Luna specifically by the wrapping paper. It had the logo of The Quibbler printed all over it.

"Be honest," Hermione began, "Should I be nervous?" Ginny smiled devilishly. With a deep breath, Hermione tore the wrapping paper and flipped the box open.

"Dear Merlin!" Hermione burst into laughter and pushed the box back, the other girls laughing at her reaction. Inside the box was what could barely be called undergarments. Hermione seriously doubted there was enough fabric there to cover anything important.

"Let's see 'em!" Pansy reached in and held the bra and underwear up, prompting a chorus of "Oohs!" from the table of girls. Hermione was flushed bright pink and reached forward to yank them from Pansy.

"Oh no Granger," she taunted, laying them out on the table. Ginny was nearly beside herself in laughter, bending over in her chair with her forehead rested on the table.

"This is from me," Cho laughed out, handing Hermione another box. With growing trepidation Hermione ripped through the paper, popping the box open.

"Oh my," she groaned, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. Ginny burst into another round of laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks. Pansy's shoulders shook as she silently guffawed at the look of terror on Hermione's face.

"This is classic," Ginny gasped out. "I wish I had a camera." Hermione gingerly set the handcuffs back in the box, pushing them towards the underwear.

"This one is from Pansy and I," Ginny said, finally calm enough to speak. Hermione said nothing, trying to maintain her composure. She was somewhere between laughing and crying.

"I'm afraid," she muttered jokingly. Ginny nodded.

"You should be." With an disparaging look towards Ginny and Pansy, Hermione slowly cracked open the top of the box.

"Oh... My word..." Hermione had thought Luna's lingerie gift was bad, but this was a hundred times worse. It quickly occurred to Hermione that the amount of fabric had nothing to do with the appropriateness of the garment.

"You should see the look on your face, Granger." Ginny and Pansy were leaning over with laughter. Ginny high-fived Pansy and reached into the box, pulling out the garment.

"Put it away!" Hermione gaped, trying in vain to retrieve the scanty undergarments.

"If you don't wear this for Malfoy, I will be so disappointed." Hermione blushed and successfully took back her new underclothes.

"You'll never know if I do," she responded indignantly.

"Oh I nearly forgot!" She was combing through her bag, which was no doubt filled with random oddities. Hermione was starting to regret teaching Ginny the undetectable extension charm as she watched Ginny struggle hopelessly through the bag.

"Got it!" The redhead pulled out a stack of cards and set them down on the table. Hermione raised an eyebrow when she saw the backs of them.

"_Sexy Questions_? Really Ginny? I'm not sure if I'm ready for that." Ginny laughed as Hermione motioned to the various inappropriate gift items and started shuffling the cards dramatically.

"It's your bachelorette party. Of course we're going to do something involving sex!" Hermione flushed and gave up on arguing. Ginny's mind was set.

"I'm not even going to be able to answer half of these," Hermione groaned in embarrassment. Pansy looked at her curiously.

"They're about sex. You should be able to." Hermione shook her head.

"I've never… I mean, you know." Pansy's mouth nearly hit the floor, followed by Ginny's and the other two girls.

"You mean you haven't slept with Malfoy?" Ginny gaped. Hermione shook her head, her blush reaching from the tips of her toes to her hairline.

"Holy shit. Malfoy didn't even ask?" Hermione shook her head again. Pansy looked gob smacked.

"Well he must really care about you then." Hermione nodded slowly, her mind focusing on the idea that she was going to have sex with Draco Malfoy.

"Hermione, have you slept with _anyone_?" Cho asked quietly. Hermione shook her head yet again, feeling the burn return to her cheeks.

"That's quite normal, Hermione," Luna chimed in quietly, "You have nothing to be worried about." She smiled distantly and Hermione returned the smile.

She was suddenly nervous beyond belief. The thought of sleeping with Draco hadn't even crossed her mind.

"Well," Ginny cleared her throat awkwardly, "Let's play anyways and Hermione can answer as best she can." The group nodded their consent and Ginny flipped over the top card.

"Cho," she said, grinning evilly, "Who was your first?" Cho flushed and wrung her hands.

"Cedric," she muttered quietly, "Before the last challenge." The table fell silent for a moment until Pansy cleared her throat and took the deck from Ginny, handing it across the table to Cho.

"You're move, Cho." Cho smiled and flipped the next card over, looking to Luna.

"Luna," she began, "Top or bottom." Luna smiled widely.

"Top," she said with a wink. The table roared with laughter.

* * *

"Alright Blaise, your turn," Harry chuckled. Blaise groaned and looked sternly at Draco.

The boys had taken a table towards the back of the club together and had been alternating between dancing and drinking for the last hour. Draco and Blaise seemed to take their alcohol much better than the other three. That was probably due to the fact that while Saint Potter, Weaselbee and Schlongbottom had been battling evil, Blaise and Draco had been playing drinking games together.

Blaise leaned back and smiled.

"In fourth year, I set all of your underwear on fire." Draco scowled and shook his head.

"I knew that, Zabini." Blaise shrugged and took a shot of Firewhiskey.

"Doesn't matter. I never officially confessed." Draco's party was playing a game of Blaise's own design. It consisted of the four boys confessing to Draco their wrongs concerning him. None of them really understood the point of the game, and none of them really cared. Even Ron seemed like he was having a good time.

"What time is it?" Draco asked, reaching for another shot. Blaise groaned.

"For the thousandth time, it doesn't matter. When it's time for you to go meet up with your beloved, we'll leave. But stop focusing on her. I get one more night with you before Granger sweeps you away." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Granger's not going to 'sweep me away', Zabini." Blaise responded by pouring himself another shot and raising it in the air before downing it without flinching.

"So you say. Your turn, Neville." Ron nudged Neville and he frowned, wracking his brain for something to confess.

"In Herbology sixth year," Neville started, "I was the one that knocked over your Mandrakes." Malfoy grinned wolfishly. It had set him back a full grade and nearly made him fail the class, but looking back it was funny.

"I bloody knew it was you, Longbottom." Neville flushed and shrugged.

"I was afraid you'd kill me," Neville confessed sheepishly. Malfoy barked laughter.

"You're not worth Azkaban, Neville." Luna's husband nodded graciously and then looked to Harry.

"Your turn, Harry." Harry smiled. He already had something.

"Alright Malfoy," Harry grinned, pushing his glasses up, "Remember second year?" Draco nodded slowly, unsure where this was going.

"We thought you were the Heir of Slytherin." Draco burst into laughter and leaned back, taking another shot of whiskey. Harry laughed along with him.

"Of course you would, Potter. That doesn't even surprise me." Harry raised his hand and stopped his laughter.

"That's not it, ferret." Harry looked to Ron, who looked confused until realization spread across his face. Ron doubled over in laughter too.

"Do you remember that conversation you had with Crabbe and Goyle about the Chamber of Secrets?" Draco nodded, wondering how they had known about it. Crabbe and Goyle had been downright odd that night.

"That wasn't Crabbe and Goyle." Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Yes it was," he said pointedly. Ron, still laughing, shook his shaggy head.

"No," he choked out, "It was us." Harry snorted at his confession and spat Firewhiskey into his hands, glasses tumbling over his nose at the expression on Draco's face.

"You… You fucking what?" Draco garbled out, shock plastered across his alabaster skin.

"Polyjuice Potion," Ron laughed out. At this point, Blaise and Neville were nearly silent with laughter, tears streaming down Neville's face. Blaise was slapping his hands down on the table repeatedly.

"I had no idea," Draco mused, now laughing himself. It all made a lot more sense now.

"We leave in ten to meet up with the girls," Blaise forced out through laughter. Draco nearly leapt from the table and bolted out the door; he desperately wanted to see Hermione. Blaise noticed his jerky movement and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Relax. You can handle ten minutes longer." Draco flushed and smacked Blaise's hand off.

"Malfoy," Ron slurred. He had drunk quite a bit more than the rest of them, and was teetering slightly in his seat.

"Yes?" Draco asked cautiously, unsure of what a drunken Weasley was capable of.

"Before we go meet up with the girls," he said slowly, raising a hand in the air, "I wanted to tell you something." Draco raised an eyebrow and nodded silently. Harry put a hand on Ron's arm, as if warning him to think before he said anything.

"I don't like you, ferret," he continued, "But you're not as bad as you used to be." Harry nodded in relief and agreement.

"What he said," Neville agreed solemnly. Blaise flicked his wand and poured them all another shot.

"To Draco and Hermione," he said reverently. They all nodded and clinked their shot glasses together.

The groups met up at a club called Wellington. Hermione had laughed quietly when she saw the name. It sounded pompous and classy, but the heavy club beat filtering through the door told her otherwise. As she watched, a couple of people stumbled out with messy hair, covered in sweat and smelling of alcohol.

_Fantastic_, she mused, _an actual club_.

"Look who it is," Ginny yelped as the boys walked around a corner. She took of full speed and jumped on Harry, who in his half drunk state barely had enough time to process and grabbed her. She planted a kiss firmly on his lips. Luna walked with a slight sway over to Neville and draped an arm over his, kissing him on the cheek. Cho sighed affectionately as she walked over to Ron, placing a hand on his arm to steady him.

"'m a bit drunk," he said. Cho nodded and kissed him on the forehead.

Blaise had a girl on his arm that Hermione could only assume was Angelica Franklin. Draco had mentioned her once or twice in passing, but Hermione had never met her before.

Then Draco stepped forward through the group of hugging couples and smiled at Hermione. His hair had become disheveled and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone, but he was still gorgeous.

"Come here, love." Hermione smiled and strode forward, throwing herself at him. He squeezed her tightly and spun around once, inhibitions diminished by the alcohol and utterly enthralled to be able to hold Hermione again.

"I missed you, beautiful," he whispered to her. Hermione giggled.

"You smell like alcohol, Draco Malfoy," she chastised. He shrugged and kissed her gently.

"So do you, Hermione Granger." Blaise reached forward and yanked the two apart.

"Granger, this is Angelica. Angelica, this is Granger." Angelica stuck her hand out and Hermione shook it, smiling.

"Hello Angelica," she said.

"Hello Hermione. Blaise has told me quite a bit about you. I'm sure we'll be seeing quite a bit of each other in the future." She motioned to Blaise and Draco, whom had somehow managed to get into a conversation involving Quidditch. Harry and Ron drifted into it, and within seconds a heated decision developed about their old house teams.

"Boys," Hermione sighed. Angelica nodded and reached forward, taking Blaise's hand.

"Come on, babe. Let's dance." Blaise grinned at her and slapped her butt teasingly before motioning for the group to follow. They paired off and walked into the club. Draco's hand stayed firmly around Hermione's waist, keeping her close to them as they worked through the crowd of people and onto the dance floor. Hermione watched as Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and started dancing with him. Draco pulled her against him and grinned, dropping his head to her ear.

"You look sexy as hell, Granger," he growled possessively. Hermione shivered at his tone and the feeling of his hands on her hips.

"Dance with me?" he asked, pulling his head back and cocking an eyebrow. She nodded and gasped as Draco pulled her completely against him, one hand pressed to her lower back and the other grabbed her hand.

"You look better than every other witch in this club," he continued as he spun them, pushing against her briefly before spinning her out and whipping her back in.

"I can't wait to see what you look like on Sunday," he murmured softly, hand trailing down her back and brushing above her butt before resting on her lower back again.

"In your wedding dress," he continued, pressing his lips to the hollow below her ear, "_Out_ of your wedding dress." She trembled in anticipation again. Draco grinned against her skin.

"But for right now," he said softly, "I'm content to see you like this. You look absolutely delectable. I'm very proud that you're mine." Hermione smiled and kissed him.

"Oi!" Harry called, "Hands off my sister!" Draco grinned against her lips and Hermione was fairly certain that Draco flipped him off.

The club shut down at three in the morning. They had hardly noticed the time flying by, and were all disappointed as they were ushered out. Draco constantly had a hand on Hermione, and when they were finally forced to separate, Hermione nearly started crying. She was exhausted and sore and wanted desperately to go back to the Manor with Draco, but Ginny insisted that they were going back to Grimmauld Place for the night and that she would see Draco the next day.

"You need sleep," she said firmly, "And we have last minute things to do later today." Draco ignored Ginny and pulled Hermione into a tight, firm hug.

"I'll see you at the altar, love," he reminded her. Hermione smiled and kissed him.

"You better. I love you." Draco kissed her back.

"I love you too. Get some sleep, darling." Hermione nodded and Ginny beckoned to her, apparating to Grimmauld Place.

Ginny kicked Harry out of the house tonight. He left with Ron, leaving the five girls to their little sleepover. Once the husbands were gone, Ginny flicked her wand and started transforming the cushions of the couch into a giant mattress. She leaned back on her hips and smiled approvingly.

"Alright, let's get ready for bed." The bathroom was a flurry of activity as the girls each took turns changing into their pajamas and removing their makeup, taking hair down from pins and knots. When they finally collapsed onto the mattress, it was four in the morning.

"Ginny, what exactly are we doing later today?" Hermione yawned.

"We all have nail appointments and facials. You get married tomorrow." Hermione nodded, too tired to talk.

"I love manicures," Pansy said sleepily. There was a murmur of agreement before the girls drifted off to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Shout out to thegirlthatsonfire for entertaining me until five in the morning and for helping me with the wedding stuff!**

* * *

**Chapter 10: The Wedding**

Saturday was a rush for Hermione. In the morning, Ginny dragged them all to the same salon Draco had given her a certificate to for the pedicures and manicures. Narcissa had met them there, and had her nails done as well. Afterwards, Narcissa and Hermione headed back to the Manor to oversee the decorations. When they arrived, Narcissa led her directly outside to see the progress that had already been made.

Directly in front of her was the aisle she would be walking down. It was layered in lavender rose petals with rows of white chairs on each side. The sheer amount of chairs was mindboggling to Hermione; there were at least three hundred chairs, if not more. At the start of each row of chairs was a floral arrangement draped in crystals. At the end of the aisle was a large arbor made of twisting wrought iron. It was covered in lavender and sage colored flowers, and easily large enough to fit both Draco and Hermione's wedding party under it.

Hermione realized that she was gaping unattractively at the mass of decorative touches going on and snapped her mouth shut quickly. Narcissa noticed and smiled at her.

"I understand there's quite a bit for you to take in, but is it to your liking?" Narcissa sounded a little concerned, surveying the area for anything out of place.

"Oh, Merlin. It's perfect, Narcissa. It's amazing." Hermione's voice was surprised and soft. Narcissa's face broke into a smile.

"Good. I was worried for a moment. Would you like to see the reception area?" Hermione nodded numbly and followed Narcissa back through the glass atrium and into what Draco had once referred to as the "ballroom". Draco hadn't been lying; the room had been constructed specifically for parties, and now it was decorated in lavender and sage fabric sweeping in crisscrosses from one side of the large room to the other. To either side of the dance floor were tables set with crystal plates and glasses with flowers twisting from the center of each table up glass poles to a bouquet at the top. Each table held five chairs draped in lavender fabric with sage ribbons tied around them. At the top of the dance floor was a long table draped in white with lavender and sage ribbons draping around it. There were ten seats at the head table. In the center of the dance floor was another small, circular table that was empty.

"The cake will go there," Narcissa informed Hermione, following her gaze. Hermione nodded and swept her gaze around the room again, trying to take it all in.

She was looking at the place her wedding would be held. Her wedding would be held tomorrow.

"I'm getting married tomorrow." Narcissa burst into laughter and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"I think I understand what you're feeling, darling. The day before my wedding I reacted almost exactly like you are now. It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" Hermione nodded and Narcissa led them out of the room and into the sitting room.

"Here, let's have some tea." As if she had been expecting it, Winky appeared next to Narcissa with a pop. Hermione nearly leapt into the air with shock.

"Oh, I'm sorry Miss 'Mione! Winky didn't mean to frighten you!" Winky blushed and Hermione knelt down besides her, smiling.

"You didn't frighten me, Winky. I'm a little on edge." The house elf laid a hand on Hermione's arm and smiled.

"Winky hopes the tea will help." Hermione smiled and sat down as Narcissa did, gratefully accepting the tea that Winky offered.

"Anyways," Narcissa continued as Winky left, "The day before my wedding I could hardly sit down. I was so nervous and excited I was nearly beside myself." She smiled fondly at the memories.

"How did you deal with it? I feel ill, honestly." Hermione took a long drink of her tea, trying to calm her shaking hands.

"Well, firstly, make sure that you get sleep tonight. Take a sleeping draught if you have to. The last thing you need is to be exhausted tomorrow." Narcissa chuckled and Hermione nodded.

"I'm just so nervous," Hermione said slowly. Narcissa nodded and stirred her tea.

"As was I. All I did was realize that I was marrying a man I loved and that I had nothing to be nervous for. Because Hermione," Narcissa leaned forward and looked at her very seriously, "Tomorrow isn't about the party or the guests. It's not about the cake or the flowers. Tomorrow is about yourself and Draco celebrating love, and that's nothing to be nervous about."

That night as Hermione settled into the guest room at Grimmauld Place, she didn't need a sleeping draught.

* * *

"Come on, bride. Wake up." The lights flipped on in Hermione's room and someone yanked the covers off her body. She cracked her eyes open to Ginny's red and Narcissa's black and grey hair.

"Why?" she groaned, rolling over and pulling a pillow over her head.

"Because you're getting married in seven hours and we have a lot to do." Hermione registered Ginny's words and shot out of bed like someone had set an electrical current through it.

"Merlin! What time is it?" Hermione lurched forward and yanked her robe off the footboard, pulling it over her nightgown and scrambling wildly for her wand on the bedpost. Narcissa laughed and smiled.

"It's only ten, dear," Narcissa assured, "But it is time for you to get something to eat."

Hermione found it nearly impossible to eat. She could hardly sit still as she forced her way through a piece of toast. She kept throwing jittery glances at the clock above the door, watching the minute hand slowly tick by until it was only six hours until her wedding.

At noon, an agonizingly long two hours after she was woken up, Narcissa and Ginny dragged her to the fireplace and to Malfoy Manor, where she met the rest of her bridal party.

"Hermione!" Molly Weasley's kind voice was the first thing that she registered as they exited the hearth.

"Molly!" Hermione rushed forward and threw her arms around Molly, bursting into tears. She hadn't seen Molly in months and the sudden reality of the day hit her like a ton of bricks.

"Why are you crying, dear? Chin up!" Molly clasped her face and pulled her into another hug, squeezing her firmly.

"I'm so glad you're here!" Molly nodded against Hermione's hug.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world. No more tears, though. We need to get you ready!" Hermione pulled back and nodded, wiping her eyes.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy," Molly stepped forward, looking slightly uncomfortable next to Narcissa.

"Please, call me Narcissa. It's wonderful to officially meet you, Molly." Narcissa, being considerably taller than Molly, leaned down and hugged her.

"Thank you for being there for Hermione," she muttered quietly. Molly blinked in surprise and then smiled.

"I wouldn't have had it any other way. Thank you as well."

Ginny ran forward and hugged Hermione tightly.

There was a camera flash and Hermione looked up quickly at where it came from.

"Wedding photographer," the little man with the camera explained, "Just pretend I'm not here!" Ginny laughed.

"Come on, 'Mione. We have to get our hair done." She squealed with glee and pulled Hermione forward, yelling hello to Narcissa over her shoulder and beckoning to Luna and Cho as she charged by. Ginny was practically radiating excitement as she dragged Hermione by her arm down the hallway and into a spare bedroom that been transformed into a hair salon. There were five stations set up around the room with an assortment of Muggle and Wizard hair styling tools. Next to each station there was a man dressed in a pink apron, and standing at the head of the room was Bastien.

"Hello dolls!" Hermione beamed at Bastien.

"Hello Bastien! I didn't know you did hair!" Hermione stepped forward and Bastien kissed her on the cheek and smiled.

"I'm a man of many trades, darling, and one of my many talents is doing a bride's hair. Let me tell you, I've been itching to get my hands on yours." Hermione smiled and let Bastien sit her down in a chair, spinning her around to face the mirror. In the reflection, Hermione watched as the Ginny, Luna and Cho sat down and the photographer snapped a few pictures.

"Alright, my lovely bride, here's my idea. Half up-do for all of you. Light curls. Very class." Hermione blinked and then looked at Bastien.

"Bastien, I trust you. Do whatever you think looks good." Bastien grinned wider than the Cheshire cat.

"Oh dearest, I was hoping you'd say that."

* * *

"Up and at 'em, Malfoy!" Draco sat up off the couch and looked around in confusion, not sure where he was. It took him a moment to remember that he had stayed at Blaise's house the night before, and that he was getting married.

"I'm getting married today." The sentence tumbled out of his mouth before he realized what he had said.

"Uh, yeah. You are. You feeling alright?" Blaise scratched his head and looked at Draco curiously. Malfoy jolted off the couch and grabbed Blaise's shirt.

"I'm getting married today! Merlin!" Draco exclaimed, grinning widely. Blaise frowned at him and peeled himself away.

"What's wrong with you?" Draco shrugged, flushing.

"I'm excited. I'm very, very happy. What's the plan for this morning?" Blaise brushed off his shirt, still frowning.

"Granger's Gang of Gryffindor's is showing up soon. We'll play Quidditch for a few hours. Come back here and shower up. Get dressed. Then we watch you end your life." Draco rolled his eyes and smacked Blaise.

"Shut up, Zabini. If that's how you feel about it, your life will be ending soon, too." Blaise sighed and rubbed his arm dramatically.

"Your point is valid. Want some breakfast?"

Ron, Harry and Neville, with one extra person in tow, arrived shortly after Blaise and Draco finished their breakfast.

"Hullo, Malfoy. We brought George with." Draco stood up and approached George slowly, unsure what to say. George Weasley looked nothing like how Draco remembered him. He was pale and lean with hollows under his eyes. There was no laughter in his face, no twinkle in his eye.

"Hello, George." Draco stuck out his hand and George shook it, smiling.

"Hello ferret. I've come to play Quidditch." Draco could hear a bit of happiness in his voice and saw Ron visibly brighten up at the change in George's demeanor.

"I'll give you a run for your money." Draco winked at him and George smiled again. Malfoy noticed Ron's shoulders drop in relief.

"Well, I went ahead earlier this morning and found a nice empty field to set up in so everyone grab on." Blaise held out his arms and everyone grabbed hold, waiting for the apparation.

"You didn't disappoint, Blaise." Draco nodded in approval at Harry's comment. Blaise had brought out a wrack of brooms and a full Quidditch set and had somehow managed to set up the three hoops on each end of the field.

"How did you manage this while I was asleep?" Blaise shrugged.

"Magic." George laughed and Ron looked at him with hope. Draco watched, trying to understand was Weasley was so bloody happy about.

As they walked towards the brooms, Harry pulled Draco back.

"I hope you don't mind George being here," he said quietly. Draco looked at Harry and shook his head.

"It's fine. I don't get what Weaselbee is so excited about." Harry sighed and looked to the ground, pushing up his glasses.

"George hasn't been doing well recently. This is the first time I've seen him smile since… Well since Fred died." Draco nearly tripped over his own feet. He hadn't even thought of that.

"He's welcome, Potter. You all are."

Quidditch was fun. They split the group in half: Ron, Harry and George against Neville, Blaise and Draco. Neville informed the team beforehand that he was going to be less of an asset and more of a hindrance, but to everyone's surprise he scored two goals against Harry's team.

In the end, it was Harry who caught the Snitch.

"Dammit, Potter," Draco growled as he dismounted his broom, "I'm marrying your best friend today and you still can't let me win." Harry grinned and clapped Draco on the shoulder.

"It doesn't matter who you marry, ferret. You still can't win." Draco scowled and turned to George.

"You were on fire, Weasley. Good game." George grinned and slung his broom over his shoulders.

"I'm always on fire, Malfoy." Blaise rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Saps. It's two now. We have to be at the Manor by four. Wedding at five. Back to my place to shower up!"

The excitement from that morning bubbled up in Draco's stomach again and he put a little jump in his step.

"Malfoy, are you _skipping_?" Ron asked in disbelief. Draco shot him is best sneer.

"Sorry for being excited, Weaselbee. Have an issue with me being happy to marry your Granger?" George burst into laughter at Ron's scowl, and the rest of the group smiled at George.

Blaise had two showers, so while two of them showered, the other four took turns eating and talking or poking fun at Draco and his impending "incarceration" as they jokingly called it.

While Neville and Harry were showering, Blaise brought Ron into the living to see the Muggle television, leaving Draco and George in the kitchen, snacking on a bag of chips.

"Malfoy, I wanted to, er, thank you for letting me come with today." Draco swallowed his mouthful and chips and nodded.

"Thank you for coming. As I said previously, you can play a mean game of Quidditch." George smiled and sadness crept back into his eyes.

"I haven't had this much fun since before Fred died." Draco nodded and put an arm around George, patting him on the back in the most comforting way he could manage.

"I'm glad we can help, George." George nodded and was silent for a moment.

"I saw you there, you know." Draco looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Where?"

"Fred's funeral. You didn't want to be seen. I respect that. But thank you for coming." George looked to Draco and Draco blinked back tears he hadn't realized where there.

"You're welcome. Thank you and your family for being there for Hermione." George smiled at him.

"Anytime, Malfoy." They both looked up as Harry walked into the kitchen, running a towel through his hair.

"Shower's open, Draco." Draco stood and nodded to George, sweeping past Harry and out of the room.

* * *

Hermione had been staring in the mirror for the last half hour, trying to comprehend that the delicate piece of art piled on top of her head was in fact her own hair, and that the face she was looking at was in fact her own face.

"Well?" Bastien asked, pacing nervous behind her.

"It's beautiful. It's perfect. Is that actually my hair?" Hermione raised a hand and suddenly Ginny appeared from nowhere, smacking it away.

"Don't you dare touch it!" Hermione blushed and looked back in the mirror. Her hair was pulled and clipped to the back loosely in finger-combed sections with pins adorned with crystals, cascading in loose curls down the back of her neck to below her shoulder blades. There was curls framing down the side of her face and playing across the crown of her head.

Bastien had also taken the liberty of doing her makeup for her. It was very light at Hermione's request, but still prominent enough to be seen from a distance. On her upper eyelid was a slightly winged liner with eye shadow accentuating the crease of her eye. Her naturally thick and long eyelashes were multiplied by mascara on her top and bottom lash line.

Ginny and her bridesmaids had all been given a similar hairstyle; loose curls with the top half of their hair pulled back into a small bun held together by clips with crystals on the end. Their makeup was also similar to Hermione's.

"Can we come in?" Narcissa and Molly peered around the corner and then entered the room.

"Oh my," Molly sniffled, walking up to Hermione and smiling. Narcissa hovered behind her, hugging Pansy and Ginny before approaching Hermione as well.

"It's time to get your dress on, dear," Molly said, voice wavering with emotion. Hermione sniffled and tried to blink back tears.

"Don't worry about crying, love. Nothing on your face will budge," Bastien offered helpfully. Hermione laughed and wiped her eyes quickly.

"What time is it?" Ginny asked.

"Half past four. Shall we?" Hermione nodded and turned around to hug Bastien.

"You go now, gorgeous. I'll be in the second row." His kissed Hermione's cheeks again and ushered her forward into Molly and Narcissa's grasp.

"I trust you girls can help each other with your bridesmaids dresses?" Narcissa asked. The bridesmaids nodded and Ginny wiped her eyes and waved to Hermione as the mothers led her from the room and into another bedroom down the hall.

Hermione's dress was on a mannequin in the center of her room with the veil hanging beside it. Her jewelry was in a display box on a table beside them as well.

"We figured we'd help you get your dress on," Molly bustled around Hermione and Narcissa nodded in agreement, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Please, no crying," Hermione snuffled. Narcissa laughed and blinked a few times.

"I'm sorry. I'm just so proud of you and Draco." Molly rounded around Hermione and nodded in agreement with Narcissa.

"Let's get you into this dress, shall we?" Molly smiled kindly and Hermione unbuttoned her shirt and Molly took it from her and Narcissa steadied her as she stepped out of her shorts. She shivered as the cold air hit her skin. Narcissa and Molly worked at undoing the buttons and zipper at the back of the dress before carefully lifting it over the mannequin and bringing it to Hermione. Molly's eyes were weepy and Narcissa was consistently sniffling as they helped Hermione step into the dress, pulling it up over her chest. Narcissa zipped it up and Molly worked the buttons closed. Hermione straightened the dress and then turned to look in a mirror. At some point, the photographer had wiggled his way in and had been taking pictures of the dress.

"Oh, 'Mione. You look gorgeous." Molly hugged her gently. She was shaking slightly.

"Molly, breathe. I'm just getting married," Hermione joked weakly. Molly shook her head and stepped back, holding Hermione at arm's length.

"Jewelry?" Narcissa asked, holding up a necklace. Hermione nodded and watched in the mirror as Narcissa fastened the rose gold pendant around her neck. Narcissa stepped back and handed Hermione the matching earrings, which she slid into her ears.

"Beautiful," Narcissa murmured. She reached for the veil and fastened it carefully in Hermione's hair. She and Molly took another step back and sighed in unison. Hermione was focused intently on her reflection in the mirror. It was surreal to see herself on this day. She hardly noticed the camera clicking or the sounds of Molly begin to cry. This was it; her wedding, her day with Draco. Nerves flooded through her.

"Come here, Hermione," Molly beckoned. Hermione turned around and faced Molly. She was holding Hermione's shoes.

"I heard somewhere," Molly said slowly, "That it was a Muggle tradition to have something borrowed, something blue." Narcissa nodded.

"The jewelry belonged to my mother," Narcissa said.

"And these belonged to me." Molly held out the shoes and Hermione noticed the small blue gems pinned onto the backs of them. Tears sprung up in Hermione's eyes and she rushed forward, pulling both of the women that had supported her and cared for her into a hug.

"Thank you both," she cried, "So much." There was a camera flash and then a knock at the door.

"Can we come in, 'Mione?" Harry called from outside.

"Is it that time?" Narcissa gasped, looking at the clock. It was ten minutes to five.

"Come in!" Harry and Ron walked in, dressed in black Muggle tuxedos over white dress shirts with sage green ties and lavender napkins folded into their pockets. Their polished black shoes clicked as they stepped onto the carpeted floor.

"Blimey, Hermione. You look amazing," Ron gaped. Hermione blushed and Molly shushed her son.

"We'll be heading down now. We will both see you soon." Narcissa leaned in and kissed Hermione on the cheek, and then repeated the action with Harry and Ron, much to the boys' chagrin. Molly hugged the three of them and bolted out after Narcissa. The wedding photographer took a quick picture of the three of them and then left, understanding that a moment alone was needed.

"You look gorgeous, Hermione," Harry said softly. He hugged her tightly and then spun her around, making Hermione giggle.

"You two look dapper," she responded, voice shaking with nerves. Ron rested a hand on her shoulder.

"You don't need to be nervous, 'Mione. Compared to what you've been through, marrying Malfoy is nothing." He winked at her and put an arm over her shoulders.

"Thank you for walking me, you two. I wouldn't have wanted anyone else." Harry smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

"We wouldn't have it any other way."

"Besides," Ron jutted in, "The headlines for this would be better than if anyone else had walked with you. '_The Golden Boys Give The Golden Girl Away: Marriage Of The Century_'." Hermione rolled her eyes and elbowed Ron, who was laughing.

"Oh stuff it." Hermione looked at the clock and sucked in a deep breath.

"Let's go, 'Mione. Time for you to get married." Hermione nodded and slipped on her shoes, checking her reflection again.

"You're good, love. Let's go." Harry smiled at her and held out his arm. Ron stood on her other side and did the same. With her best friends at her side, Hermione wasn't as afraid to face the three hundred wedding guests. Anxiousness ran through her as they rounded the corner into the atrium. Ginny stopped them before they rounded the corner.

"Stay until I walk. Count to ten, and then go." She looked the three of them up and down and the kissed Harry briefly.

"You all look amazing." Hermione jolted as music started outside.

"Go, Cho!" Ginny called around the corner. Hermione shook and took three deep breaths as Ginny counted down from ten.

"Luna!" Another countdown to ten.

"Pansy!" Ginny lined up and counted again to ten.

"See you soon." Ginny smiled and as she mouthed ten, she rounded the corner and walked through the open French doors.

Ten…

Hermione tightened her grip on the boys and they both looked down at her and smiled reassuringly. Harry used his free hand to push his glasses up and Ron shifted from one hip to the other.

Five…

"Deep breaths, Hermione," Harry reminded her, squeezing her hand on his arm.

"We love you, you know." Ron's words calmed her down considerably.

One.

"Let's walk." Harry stepped forward first as the song changed to a bridal march. Hermione faltered a bit, but Ron made sure she didn't fall as Harry led them forward.

"Smile," Ron reminded. Hermione's smile was forced until she rounded the corner.

Hermione looked straight ahead and focused intently on the shock of blonde hair at the end of the aisle. He looked unbearably handsome in his black tuxedo and black tie. He was standing straight as a rod, his usual stance, but there was something relaxed about his posture. Draco's eyes were focused directly on hers, and the smile that split his face was bigger than any she had ever seen from him before. He rocked forward onto the balls of his feet and then turned to Blaise to answer something he had said, but his eyes never left Hermione's.

Hermione had the sudden urge to run headlong down the aisle, but Harry and Ron held her back. The tension rippled through her body. She didn't notice the rows of people around her or the flashes of the wedding photographer and the reporters. She didn't notice the music or the flower petals she was treading on. All she saw was Draco watching her walk towards him.

It seemed to take ages, but they reached the end of the aisle. Harry cleared his throat and Hermione looked to him, smiling widely. Harry's eyes were brimming with tears as he leaned down to kiss her cheek and hug her.

"We love you, 'Mione. We're always here for you." She turned to Ron and hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek.

"You're still part of our family. Always will be." He grinned goofily at her and then looked to Draco, who had stepped forward and offered his hand.

"May I?" he asked Harry and Ron. They looked to each other and then nodded, stepping aside to join the ranks of the groomsmen. Hermione put her hand in Draco's and smiled.

"You look phenomenal, Granger," he whispered as he hugged her. Hermione smiled at him as she stepped onto the small platform.

"You won't be able to call me that after this," she muttered back. Draco shrugged and dropped her hand, stepping back so the official from the Ministry was between them. His eyes were slightly misty and Hermione noticed that every time he took a breath, he shuddered a little.

"That's what you think." Hermione rolled her eyes and heard a chuckle from the crowd. She looked out to the front row. The entirety of the Weasley family had made it. Even Charlie was there. Molly and Arthur sat on one end of the aisle, with Percy next to them. Charlie was next to Percy, and Bill and Fleur were beside Charlie. Fleur waved at her and smiled, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. George was beaming up to her from beside Fleur. Across the aisle was Narcissa, sitting with people Hermione didn't recognize.

The official cleared his throat and her attentions snapped to him and then back to Draco. He had held out his hand again and she took it gratefully, twining their fingers together. Draco gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand, then looked out to his mother briefly. She smiled and nodded.

"Ladies and gentlemen, witches and wizards," the official began, "All of us are present today to witness the union of Draco Lucius Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger under the direction of the Marriage Law." As the man droned on, Hermione found herself staring only at Draco, who was looking intently back at her. Neither of their smiles faltered the entire time.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, do you take Hermione Jean Granger as your chosen wife?" Draco cleared his throat.

"I do." The official nodded and turned a page in the book he was reading.

"And Hermione Jean Granger, do you take Draco Lucius Malfoy as your husband?"

"I do." Hermione's throat was clenched with emotion and she worked back tears again.

The official snapped his book shut and coughed quietly.

"As requested by, I now pronounce you husband and wife." As soon as the official stepped back, Draco stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist, dipping her down and kissing her. Hermione blushed as the straightened up and turned out with Draco to face the wedding guests. She laughed as she saw the difference in sides. Her side of guests was standing and clapping. George was whistling through his teeth and Luna's father was doing some sort of odd hand motions. Draco's guests were formally clapping and smiling half-heartedly, save for Narcissa who, to their surprise, was celebrating much like the Weasley's.

Ginny thrust a bouquet of white, lavender and sage flowers into Hermione's free hand and pushed them slightly down the aisle together. The orchestra had picked up another song as Draco and Hermione walked arm in arm down the aisle and into the ballroom.

It had been changed completely from the night before. There was no dance floor, only tables spread throughout the room an equal distance apart from each other. The head table remained where it had before. To the sides of the room were serving stations with waiters standing by, and greeting them as they walked in were four men in suits to bring them to their tables.

Soon enough everyone was seated at their tables and courses of food were being brought out. Hermione and Draco were seated at the center of the head table and talked with each other and their wedding parties as they ate. The food was delicious, as Hermione had expected. Narcissa had been nothing but thorough.

"Don't worry," Draco assured, holding her hand under the table, "I don't recognize half the people my mother invited." He turned to her and smiled.

"I love you, Hermione Malfoy." Hermione blushed and played with the ring on her finger.

"I love you." The ring of a glass being tapped attracted everyone's attention as Blaise stood up and smiled.

"Well now it's time for me to make a speech," he began as the room hushed, "That simultaneously highlights the finer points of my friendship with Draco and also embarrasses him to no end at the same time." The crowd chuckled and Draco rolled his eyes, watching his friend.

"Unfortunately, I'm bad at making speeches, so I'll say this instead." Blaise turned to Draco and grinned.

"Draco's been like a brother to me since we were kids, and I'm glad that he's happy. So here's to hoping the newlyweds don't revert back to their school days and try to kill each other." The room roared with laughter and Draco stood up and hugged Blaise tightly.

A few minutes after Blaise's speech, the dinner was done and suddenly all of the food service areas and plates disappeared. Tables were shifted off the dance floor and the cake table was put in their place.

"Do you even know what the cake looks like?" Hermione muttered. Draco shook his head.

The doors of the ballroom opened and four of the waiters from before walked in with their wands raised, levitating in between them a very large, six-tiered cake. It was coated in white frosting with twisting branches and sage and lavender twining to the top tier, on top of which were moving figurines of a ferret and an otter.

"Oh Merlin. Are those…" Hermione trailed off, motioning to the tiny animals. Draco was nearly doubled over with laughter.

"I would assume our Patronuses." Hermione looked at him in shocked amusement.

"Your Patronus is a ferret? That's brilliant." Draco scowled and rolled his eyes.

"I don't get to pick. At least mine isn't some sort of sea rat." Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Draco stood up, pulling her with.

"Time for cake." Hermione looked at him very seriously as they walked around the table.

"If you get cake on my dress, I will hex you tonight." Draco winked at her.

"Sounds kinky." Hermione glowered at him as he picked up the knife. Cameras flashed as together they cut into the cake and, to Hermione's relief, very neatly fed each other a bite. Draco laughed nearly the entire way through.

Narcissa stepped onto the floor and stood by Draco's side.

"Now it's time for the first dance, and then the real party can begin." There were some cheers from Hermione's side of the room, but they were cut out as a slow, sweet song started playing. Instantly Draco pulled Hermione against him, dropping his left hand to her lower back, holding her hand with his right.

"How does it feel to be married?" He asked, spinning them around. Hermione smiled.

"Like it felt to be engaged. I just get to sign my name different now." Draco's mouth twisted into a sarcastic smile and he shook his head.

"It feels amazing to be married to you, Granger. I was hoping you'd feel the same." Draco dipped her down and pulled her back up. As he did, she kissed him lightly.

"It feels perfect. And it's Malfoy now, Malfoy." Draco chuckled and spun Hermione around again. Draco stopped spinning as Arthur Weasley tapped on his shoulder.

"May I cut in?" Draco nodded and offered Hermione forward and stepped to the side, pulling Narcissa out of her chair and bringing her out onto the dance floor.

"May I have the honor of this father-daughter dance?" Arthur asked, bowing slightly and extending his hand to Hermione. Hermione flushed and nodded.

"Of course." Arthur smiled and twirled Hermione around. His dancing was less refined than Draco's, but that didn't matter.

"Molly and I are very proud of you, Hermione," Arthur said softly. Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes again and she wiped them with the back of her hand.

"Thank you for being such wonderful parents to me. You have no idea how much I appreciate it." Arthur smiled through misty eyes and kissed Hermione on the cheek.

"We've always considered you our daughter."

As more people filtered onto the dance floor, Draco kissed his mother's hand and walked towards Hermione again.

"May I?" Arthur shook Draco's hand and hugged Hermione tightly, leaving her to go to Molly, who was waiting for him on the side of the floor.

"I won't get you for long," Draco said mournfully as they resumed their previous dance. The floor was getting crowded with couples. Hermione watched Harry and Ginny slow dance next to them. Ron and Cho were towards the corner of the dancing, holding hands and talking quietly. Ron reached up and brushed her cheek. She smiled and touched his wrist. Luna and Neville were swaying next to each other, as awkward and in love as possible.

Draco followed her gaze and looked at her with a smile.

"Are you happy?" He asked.

"Very. Are you?" Draco nodded and kissed her cheek.

"Of course. I'm happier now than I ever have been. I'm dancing with my beautiful wife at my wedding. My mother is happy. _We_ are happy." Draco leaned down and kissed her gently. They were interrupted by Harry clearing his throat.

"Can I interrupt?" Draco sighed.

"Will I actually get to dance with my wife tonight?" Harry smiled and extended his hand to Hermione.

"Maybe later. Hermione, care to dance?" Hermione smiled and Draco stepped back. Harry put his hand on her waist and grabbed her hand, spinning them dramatically. Hermione laughed.

"Everything alright?" He asked seriously.

"Everything is perfect, Harry. For once, everything is perfect." Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder.

"No Voldemort, no Death Eaters. No one's trying to kill us." Harry burst into laughter and twirled her one more time. Then Draco was there, waiting, and Hermione stepped back from Harry.

"Thank you, Harry." He shrugged and brushed hair off his glasses.

"Anytime."

* * *

The Malfoy-Granger wedding lasted well into the night. Hermione took turns dancing with every Weasley and even some of the Blacks and Malfoys at the party. There was no shortage of food or drink all night and everyone seemed to have a wonderful time. At midnight, the crowd started to thin out, saying their congratulations to the bride and groom and goodbye to Draco's mother. By one, everyone was gone and an exhausted Hermione and Draco Malfoy were ushered out of the room and upstairs by Pansy and Ginny.

"Your trunks are packed," Ginny said excitedly, albeit tiredly, "And you're leaving in five minutes!" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Leaving where?" Pansy giggled.

"Your honeymoon." Hermione looked to Draco.

"Honeymoon? I didn't even take time off work for this, and-," Ginny shushed her and thrust a Portkey into her hand.

"We have everything covered. Two weeks and you'll be back. And two minutes until that whisks you away." Pansy flicked her wand and two trunks floated towards them. Draco reached down and picked up both of them.

"Everything you need is packed in those trunks, and if you come back before two weeks I'll strangle you both," Pansy said lightly, leaning forward to hug Hermione and Draco goodbye.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked as she hugged Ginny. Ginny chuckled.

"That is for us to know and you to find out. Have fun!" Hermione barely had time to reach out and grab Draco before the Portkey whisked them away, dropping them on a cobblestone path surrounded by sand.

"Do you know where we are?" Draco was smiling as he nodded.

"Yes. Our island in the Caribbean." Hermione looked at him incredulously.

"Your island?" Draco nodded. He was staring at the cottage nostalgically. It was small by the standards of the Malfoy's; one story with a wrap-around porch with white columns that supported the roof over the decking. The siding was pale blue with white edging.

"One of a few. Shall we?" Draco motioned forward and Hermione nodded, hitching her dress higher as they walked up the stairs.

"Wait a moment, love." Draco opened the door and set the bags inside before turning to Hermione and picking her up, carrying her over the threshold.

"I've been brushing up on my Muggle traditions," he said, smiling.

Hermione wasn't focusing much on Draco or the interior of the house. She was more focused on the fact that he had carried her into the bedroom.

Nervousness rushed through her with newfound adrenaline. She trembled on her feet as Draco set her down and looked her over.

"Are you alright?" Hermione nodded shakily, slipping her shoes off and raising her hand to Draco's suit, undoing the buttons slowly.

"I'm nervous," she muttered as she slipped Draco's jacket off. Her hands went to his tie, undoing it deftly and throwing it the ground with the jacket. As her fingers started on his shirt buttons, he raised his hands up and stopped her.

"We don't have to do this tonight, Hermione. We can wait if you're uncomfortable." Hermione shook her head and stood on her toes to kiss him. Tentatively, gently, Draco put one hand around her and the other on the back of her neck, pulling her to him. Hermione's fingers carried down his shirt and pulled it out of the waistband of his slacks. Draco moved his arms so Hermione could slip his shirt off.

"Mrs. Malfoy," he murmured into her neck as he undid the clasp of her necklace and set it on the chair beside the door.

"Yes?" Hermione shivered as his lips ran down her neck to the tip of her shoulder.

"I love you. Do you trust me?" She felt his teeth brush the juncture where her neck and shoulder met.

"Yes. Of course." Draco's lips curled into a smile against her jaw.

"Shall we go to bed?" Hermione grinned and grabbed Draco's belt loops.

"Definitely."

* * *

**A/N: I stayed up until five in the morning writing this. So I better get some reviews. :P Until next time! **


	11. Announcement!

Hey everyone! I'm having my carpal tunnel surgery on the 31st and have been told to take it easy until then and for a bit afterwards.

**THIS STORY IS NOT ABANDONED.**

This story is taking a medical leave. I promise I'll be back. I know how the next chapter is going to go, I just need to write it.

Thank you! :)


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